Freefall
by BodhiJones
Summary: Set at the very end of season 2, (so spoilers for that). Lucifer has a long road ahead of him to escape the desert. Revelations and realisations abound, and not just for him. (wanders AU from series 3).
1. Chapter 1

_...No more going backwards..._

Heat was the first sensation he became aware of. A warmth baking through his flesh, bone deep and endless. Crumpled over onto his side Lucifer lay quite still, his body drained, bruised and bloodied. Breathing came only in shallow gasps as he tried to muster enough strength to move.

The remorseless blaze was a comforting blanket smothering his battered senses. It dominated everything with its gravity, like a weight dragging him down through the earth. Consciousness was already fading out even as he tried to open his eyes. Exhaustion sweet as a siren song, unravelling his reserves of energy and pulling him easily back under, into sweet oblivion.

 _...No more..._

* * *

 _...His heart was beating fast, phone cradled close to his ear as he strolled from St. Claire's hospital. Linda's frail smile fresh in his mind and a new resolve burning in his gut. This epiphany was both thrilling and terrifying, and when had he last felt such a flutter in his chest? Had he ever?_

 _Linda had seen who he really was, really seen, and she had remained. Whatever happened now she was going into it as her choice, with her eyes wide open._

 _But Chloe had done no such thing. The difference was stark. It was time to tell her everything. Time to end the dance and let the good detective understand once and for all. Come disaster or triumph, this was it. Her choice. Her revelation. The future, their future if there was ever to be one, it had to be her choice..._

 _He almost stumbled over the words, unfamiliar hope choking his throat "I want to tell you everything"..._

* * *

 _The heat returned with a vengeance, an oven cranked back up to burn._

Lucifer winced, the blazing light made his closed lids glow a deep red, the temperature now even more intense than before. Cricket song rasped all around, fading in and out with his muffled hearing, a whispering buzz that cut through the stillness of the heavy oppressive air.

He opened his eyes slowly to behold a world on it's axis, tilted ninety degrees. _Wrong, fallen, a joke of a horizon._ The abstract view made no sense _at all_ , his thoughts too sluggish to catch up and process the situation. His eyes drifted shut against a swell of confusion.

 _...no..._

 _He had been walking into the cool of the night, away from the bright artificial lights of the hospital... he had been leaving a message, rambling on a bit perhaps, but...  
_

 _But then?..._

Lucifer frowned, shaking his head, unable to bridge the gap in his memory. Increasingly aware instead of how everything ached. He slowly shifted, trying to lever himself upright into a position that didn't hurt quite so much.

Hanging his head a moment, he let the world pirouette around. Unable to do anything more than just sit in the dirt and wait the feeling out.

Blinking dully, he looked down at himself. Somehow he had been stripped of all but his trousers. Whatever skin he could see on display had been shredded, flaking and blistered with the worst damage spread across his chest and shoulders.

He stilled again, exhaling through a wave of pain. He had not felt like this since... Well, not _in a long, long time._

With a sharp intake of breath he pushed himself up to stand unsteadily. Blinking gritty eyes up at the noon-day sun, he lifted one hand tentatively to shield his gaze. As far as he could see in every direction the desert stretched out for an eternity on all sides, shimmers of heat haze dancing fluidly upon the horizon.

 _There was nothing, nothing at all for miles..._

His back screamed out in protest as he stood still. With gritted teeth he grunted at the effort it took to steady himself. The old familiar weight of his wings pulled him backwards slightly, his balance shot to hell.

 _His wings..._

Gasping, he pitched forward, knees jarring against the ground as his lungs tightened suddenly, making it _so very difficult_ to breathe. The wings were unbearably bright under the sun, a blinding white. He had to shield his eyes from the glow as they crowded around him, an unwieldy mess of feathers, draping either side of his body as he fell.

Beautiful as ever, restored in their very real glory, the mantle of the Lightbringer. Subtle greys, pinks and the lightest of blues shone through like the rainbow film of an oil spill across the quills. If you looked close to really study them, a pale iridescent sheen of colour was just visible against the blinding white.

 _Once upon a time they had been the glorious envy of heaven, then they had become an ominous bright beacon in hell._

Lucifer pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes as he knelt on the dusty baked earth. His mind reeling in confusion. Unsure of where he was, _of when_ , how was this even possible?

Muscles protested and cramped as he leant forward, curling in on himself to rest a shaking hand against the cracked earth. Fingers pressed hard into the hot dust, needing something real to hold onto.

A glint of silver on his hand caught the eye, the ring, whatever was happening he still somehow wore the old ring. The pitch black stone was completely incongruous against the bright sun and the dazzling wings. It seemed to swallow the light, a small vivid patch of darkness that he could focus on as the world swaggered and spun sickeningly around him.

With a hiss through gritted teeth he stretched the wings out. They responded clumsily, feeling heavier than they should. But they were real. The bone, the flesh, the feathers all reattached and a part of him once more.

His arms shook, his body trembling with the onset of shock, and it became so much easier to _just_ tilt over to one side than to remain knelt upright.

 _Just rest..._

Exhaustion was clawing at him still. A relentless rake through any coherent thought. Curling down onto his side, Lucifer tried to focus on the black stone, tried to remain awake, but it was impossible to fight against this.

Dragging one wing up over himself to shade from the blazing sun, the other crushed against his side, the devil passed back out into unconsciousness.

* * *

 _No... no please..._

 _No more..._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

 _A/N: A short intro to my take on the end of season 2. More to follow soon, thank you for reading ;) Based on the Fox TV show and I own nothing but my take on any OC's that may appear._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Warning for adult language and religious references as we forge onward from here, (but hey, this is based around the Lucifer TV show, so that should hopefully be expected). This story is written with the greatest of respect to the topic. Thank you so much for the feedback and kind reviews, they are incredibly encouraging and I appreciate every single one._

 _._

* * *

A trumpet blared, a long clear singular note of warning, the harsh tone ringing far out across the Silver City. It echoed down between the elegant colonnades and skipped sharp across the broad pale flagstone streets.

 _Disperse,_ it said, _cease this madness._

But they wouldn't, _they couldn't._ There was a question _burning_ within them now, stoked into a blaze of desire by their leader Samael. He was their spear point, their voice and reassurance. _If God's own favoured son is on our side,_ the ever-growing crowd whispered, _then surely our cause will be heard? That it will at least be considered?_

Free will was all they wanted. A gift so freely and callously given to mortals, fleeting creatures that they were now asked to bow before. _As if they would?_ They were all here to claim this right for themselves.

 _Was it so very much to ask?_

Perhaps they were so tangled up in rebellion that there could be no turning back now anyway. _You did not make demands, you did not question the ineffable plan._ What they were doing right here and now, it was blasphemy, a deed that would be remembered long into eternity.

 _Well then, so be it..._

The atmosphere was dangerously tense, a collective held breath as the Morningstar himself approached the gates of the citadel. It was a beautiful structure of ancient stone, set at the very heart of the city. The architecture curved, simple and elegant. High above, a multitude of long silver pennants drifted and snapped lazily in the breeze, hung from every lofty spire that reached high into the eternal dawn.

Samael was advancing with a third of heaven marching at his back. He had stirred unprecedented levels of dissent for some time now. The way he cajoled and convinced so smoothly, word had travelled fast about what he was trying to do. Murmurs had built up into ripples, ripples had grown into waves, waves had swollen into a tide of very real rebellion. This feeling of unrest had spread and twisted through the city like wild cancerous roots, culminating here in this alarming confrontation.

 _Rumour held that he intended to storm as far as the throne room itself, demanding an actual answer from his Father. An answer to be shared with any that would march with him._

This kind of thing had never happened before, _ever._

Samael, _the Lightbringer,_ he was a deceiver or saviour depending on which side of the line you stood and _everyone_ here had to pick a side in the fight.

Beneath the ornate archway of the main gate, three grey-clad figures looked on, standing firm.

Gabriel rested his hand warily on the hilt of his sword, eyeing the huge crowd approaching. Pale and blonde, his blue-grey dappled wings twitched wide with a flick of impatience. Amenadiel reached over calmly, resting a broad hand upon his hot-tempered brother's right shoulder, an unspoken reassurance. A silent request not to do anything _hasty,_ not yet.

To the left of them, Michael stood solemn and ready, golden brown skin complementing his dark golden wings that were folded tight and tense against his back. His usual broad smile nowhere to be seen. Squinting ahead, he muttered a low dismayed warning _"Do you see? Many of them are armed."_

As one they stared ahead to the distant figure of Samael, _confident as ever and striding at the head of the mob_ , all thinking the same bitter thought. _Their own kin, how could he do this? How dare he defy the will of their Father? Betrayer, upstart, ungrateful little brother._

 _Traitor..._

Seraphim stationed high above in the parapets sounded their trumpets again. Making the brothers look up with grim finality. The clear note was picked up and carried swiftly from post to post. A shrill peal of alarm to warn those deep inside the thick citadel walls. _Beware... be ready... they approach..._

 _How had it come to this?_

Amenadiel flexed his arm, rolling a shoulder loose with a small resigned sigh.

Gabriel possessed great tactical instinct and Michael was swift, but Amenadiel always held the greatest strength. Even _his_ eyes flew wide at the scale of the mob that approached. The brothers exchanged a simple resolute nod. _They would do what had to be done, they would deal with this usurper once and for all._

Amenadiel shook his head, burying the flicker of pain that twisted in his gut at this brash show of betrayal. _Samael you idiot, you bring this upon yourself. Worse than that, you bring it upon all the fools following you too._

 _Well then, so be it..._

Both sides were defiant as they drew close. The citadel was clearly not offering any scope to parley but bracing instead for battle. The rebellion, so deeply entrenched in their outrage and protest, were unwilling to step aside and turn back now they had come this far.

Amenadiel narrowed his eyes, hefting his staff. This day stood on the precipice of a bloodbath if no-one backed down. _The numbers are stacked in only one direction little brother,_ he frowned to himself, willing his brother's mob to turn away. Even now at the last moment he hoped vainly that they would capitulate and pull aside from this madness. _This will only end one way._

Gabriel took point, lifting his sword high above his head, the edge glinting ominously in the golden dawn light.A signal to the ranks of angels lined up behind them, so many that they filled the wide citadel steps, to brace for battle. In the distance Samael appeared to be doing the same, arms raised wide in passionate speech, rallying his followers onward.

Both sides drew closer and closer, unstoppable now...

 _Then the sky itself cracked._

A terrible vacuum of noise suddenly sucked inwards across the city like an immense breath, followed swiftly by a blinding light that pulsed out from the very heart of the citadel itself.

 _Chaos was swift to follow._

.

.

.

* * *

 _The sky filled with their desperate cries._

Samael howled out in frustration as the ground _heaved, buckling_ up beneath his feet before giving way. The walls of the Silver City slipped from sight in his violent rush downward.

His wings were useless against the force of the fall, trailing behind him like a tattered cloak. The velocity too fast, too fierce to be able to spread them wide and somehow slow the descent. All he could do was tumble over and over, aware that on all sides, a third of heaven was spinning and falling just as helplessly in his wake.

Their chorus of fury gave way to shrieks of pain as the fall began to _burn._

An intense searing pain spread across skin that blistered and sheaved away. Elegant clothing tore and ripped, reduced to mere strips and rags. Graceful limbs twisted and became gnarled mockeries of what they used to be. Some wings snapped clean away, shockingly fragile under the onslaught, like brittle sticks of tinder.

 _"You... bastard..." The furious words were torn from his lips and lost to the wind before he could even hear them._

A never-ending drop, the speed was horrifyingly fast and brutal. He wanted to black out from the pain as his skin bubbled and hissed but that escape wouldn't come. This wasn't a fall, this was a yank by the ankles, a slam down through the realms to land only God knew where. _This was the back of a hand brought down swift and hard to quell the rebellion._

This was their punishment. _Inescapable and most terrible indeed._

 _So down they went, screaming all the way..._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

Lucifer jolted awake. One arm curled around his head and the other scrabbling in the dirt. The wing he had been dozing fitfully under was flexed around him, an unconscious barrier protectively flung out as if to brace for impact.

He blinked in bleary confusion, _many_ stern eyes were peering intently in his direction.

 _What the... ?_

A collection of small red skeletal heads bobbed about in his peripheral vision. In a daze he wondered for a heart clenching moment if he had ended up back in Hell.

The turkey vultures cocked their heads warily, giving him a shrewd look before launching lazily up into the air. They clattered away on broad dark wings, deciding to look elsewhere for an easier meal.

 _The desert, he was still in the middle of bloody nowhere..._

He huffed a breath, letting his head _thunk_ back into the dirt, quietly uttering the only word that felt truly appropriate... _"Bollocks."_

High above the sky had softened into a dark mauve, the horizon tinged with ruby and gold. The last dregs of dusk bleeding out before night would stalk over the empty landscape.

Forcing himself to sit upright, with a quiet grumbled curse, he surveyed the uninspiring surroundings. The vast sandy desert was studded with small sharp shrubs and the occasional rugged palm. Scarcely any shade or water to aim for in miles. Mountains were heaped here and there, tumbled low on the horizon, but he didn't recognise them well enough to get any useful bearings.

Rubbing a hand roughly over his face he tried to shake off the sensation of falling. A curious knot constricting low in his stomach, the old see-saw stab of vertigo, enough to make him hold onto the ground until it passed.

 _How the howling wind tore at his skin, the endless roar deafened his ear, the helplessness of the freefall down into the darkest depths of creation._ Lucifer shivered at the memory.

 _But that confrontation was a long, long time ago now and he had just averted the bloody rematch, hadn't he?_ Mum was safely packed off into her own new shiny realm, a safe place where she could start over from scratch. _Family meeting postponed and all that._

Lucifer looked down at the state of himself, his chest and shoulders still deeply blistered and raw. _"So, you're still here are you?"_ He muttered low, arching a brow, his gaze drifting accusingly over to the wings as his fingers twitched for a cigarette. They draped innocently in the dirt either side of where he sat. A fine film of dust already accumulated over their surface whilst he had been unconscious.

He trailed a hand tentatively over one wing, half heartedly knocking the sand away from the soft quills. Slowly his arm stilled as his dark eyes grew wide. He _stared_ , gaze hazing somewhere beyond the brilliant feathers, his other hand lifting distractedly to the deep wounds on his chest.

The damaged skin was so torn and shredded in places, flaking like scorched parchment. His fingers gently traced over the worst of the ruin. _This was nothing so pedestrian as sunburn._ He looked over the thin trails of dark dried blood that seeped from his chest, shoulders and somewhere on his neck. Then he squinted slowly up at the sky in doubt.

Realisation clicked with painful clarity, the cluster pattern of the wounds making a sudden horrible kind of sense. The reappearance of his wings an appalling stroke of arrogance.

A dangerous snarl of anger reared up from deep inside, a guttural growl, his eyes shifting in response to a brilliant sulphurous red.

"Like that is it?" Lucifer cocked his head sharply to one side, his tone incredulous. _"The thanks I get for preventing a war?"_ Bitterness laced through each word, spat out with an edge sharper than Azrael's blade. " _Back to square one are we?"_

With a deep scowl he lurched upright, ignoring how the sudden movement made his back spasm cruelly.

 _Had he actually been there?_ His crimson eyes were growing wide with horror. _Dragged somehow back to the Silver City? Never awoken, not once? Not even permitted a damn glimpse of those pale spires?_

 _Had he been there... well had he?_ The thought tore at him.

 _"Well thanks for the chat."_ Lucifer spat, pacing to and fro, arms and wings flung incredulously wide. _"Always great to catch up!"_

The damage, a splay of burns all in one direction, it spoke volumes to him now. _Thrown out all over again..._ He clenched his hands into fists. Not wanting to think about enduring another long drop.

 _"Wouldn't want to waste a coin now would you?"_ Lucifer strode on, absolutely incensed. _"Oh no, just kick open the back door and sling me out with the trash when you were done putting me back together."_

Lucifer was almost speechless with the level of fury coursing through his veins.

 _It was such a struggle to breathe._

He snatched at the trunk of a nearby Joshua tree, tearing it easily up from the earth and swung it around in a wide arc. The slender trunk smashed apart as he hurled it with a snarl, landing several hundred feet away. The destruction wasn't satisfying enough. He wanted to tear something else apart with his bare hands. _To set a torch to the entire desert where he stood._ He needed to destroy something, anything, to help alleviate this feeling that made his heart gallop and breath catch...

But there was hardly _anything_ here... He wrenched around, insensible of what direction he paced in, the unwelcome wings trailing in his wake all the while. _He was too tired, too abused, too pissed off to bear it._ With a raw savagery he turned and screamed incoherently at the sky.

It was a ragged other-worldly roar, that echoed _on and on_ across the desert.

Lucifer staggered slightly to the side as he closed his eyes, a wave of dizziness crashing over him, but he snarled defiantly as he fought to keep his footing.

"So _now_ what do you want?" He gestured wildly around at the desert, voice dangerously low. _"You've thrown me out here to do what... think?"_

He dragged his hands up over his scalp, suppressing a wild bubbling laugh. _"A little walk in the desert eh? Yes I know you bloody well like that old chestnut."_ His fingers tore through the dust and dried blood stuck to his hair.

"I was _there_ last time you pulled this little stunt on someone." He glared at the sky, screaming his accusing words out in a slur. " _Or did you forget?"_

Lucifer stilled his pacing, his body an agonising collection of bruises and burns, the exertion already too much. Closing his eyes against the sensations he whispered almost silently under his breath. _"You bastard... you utter, utter bastard..."_

Darkness had fallen far across the desert by now, the pale moonlight giving the barren landscape an otherworldly glow. He tilted his head to one side, his voice softening even while his eyes still burned furiously in the gloom. "Maybe, I _should_ have let mum pay you a visit..."

He chuckled a little giddily. "Why did I _even bother_ to intervene?"

Lucifer hugged both arms tight around his body, desperately tight as he looked upward. "Show yourself!..." A pleading tone _tore_ across his dry throat _"talk to me!"_

He stared upwards, and of course the night sky did absolutely _nothing_ in response.

 _"Coward"_ The word was little more than a disappointed whisper.

He flexed his wings, trying to lift himself from the ground, but they were too unwieldy and heavy. Lucifer cried out at the effort it took to make just a couple of experimental beats.

 _No hope of flying out of here yet then..._

Without picking or caring his direction he staggered forward, a fitful stumbling shuffle.

The creatures of the desert shied away and fled before this curious spectre. A winged beast with furious red eyes that stalked so slowly through the night.


	3. Chapter 3

It really was quite an adorable sign for the door, Trixie had spent ages on it, carefully tracing out each letter.

 _Trixie - No boys allowed, except for Lucifer and Dad._

Absolute law, laid down for all to see, with little round hearts dotted over the i's for good measure.

When Trixie had first tugged at her hand, thrusting the finished sign hopefully in her direction, Chloe had smiled, chuckling fondly at the unexpected pecking order that her daughter had listed Dan and Lucifer in. So up the sign went to Trixie's delight and the general amusement of everyone else, that is everyone bar Lucifer. He had peered at the sign in bewilderment, muttering that the spawn's dwelling was the very last place he would desire to trespass in the house.

But still, his lip may have twitched in more than a little amusement at scoring a higher rank on the list than Lieutenant Douche, _the actual father_.

Chloe propped the door open with her elbow, her other arm curled around a bundle of clean laundry as she called out over her shoulder. "Teeth all brushed?"

"Yes mommy." Trixie darted by in a blur of primary coloured astronaut pyjamas, diving beneath the puffy duvet on the bed with a giggle.

Peering owlishly out from the covers, once she had burrowed thoroughly through them, she frowned up at her mum. "when is Lucifer coming back?" Trixie's question was completely innocent, but it still hit the bullseye on Chloe's private thoughts with pinpoint accuracy.

Chloe paused for only the briefest moment as she folded her daughters clean clothes away into the wardrobe.

"I don't know monkey... might be a little while okay?" she kept her voice as level as she could and flashed a reassuring smile. "He had to go away for something really important."

Chloe had given the same patient answer to her daughter each and every time the issue had been raised. A conversation probably to be repeated many times over. But still, it was becoming increasingly difficult to know what to say as time dragged on, and Trixie had a habit of asking at the most random of times, catching her mother flat-footed.

What else could she say? She was deep in damage limitation mode here.

Trixie nodded a little, a ghost of a pout on her features as she snuggled under the blankets.

Even after a whole fortnight with zero contact, her daughter still asked after him. For some reason she just adored him. She had never seen his avoidance and discomfort as anything other than a hilarious game. The more Lucifer tried to disentangle himself and keep the child at bay, the more delighted and fascinated Trixie became.

There wasn't a single other adult in her life so colourful and straight up weird, with perhaps the exception of Mazikeen.

Only Lucifer would offer to let her drive a corvette even though she could barely see over the steering wheel. Only he would snatch her hot breakfast away, devouring it without a trace of remorse. Only he would throw bacon across the room for her to fetch like a pet, a diversion so he could escape her company.

Chloe had found his behaviour exasperating but not unprecedented. Some people simply just weren't at ease around kids, if he was the youngest of all his siblings, maybe he hadn't grown up with anyone littler than him, so he just didn't know how to deal with or connect to someone like Trixie? That was understandable, even if he did take it to extremes. Most importantly it never once offended Trixie. In fact the more he unwittingly did it, the more she was entertained.

Chloe perched on the edge of the bed, tucking the covers affectionately around her daughter, taking advantage of their quiet moment together.

"Hey" she leant forward, voice softening as she peered at Trixie more closely. "You doing okay monkey?"

Ever since they had visited the fancy Starford school, when Trixie had opened up in a class about how she worried about her Mom's dangerous job and how it sometimes made her sad, Chloe had been more conscious than ever of keeping a healthy line of communication open. Never pushing too hard, but just making sure she knew that they could talk about anything.

"I just wish he'd hurry up."

"I know baby." Chloe kept her tone light as she brushed a few strands of curly brown hair from her daughters brow, a soothing touch, "It's okay to miss someone, you know that right?" She paused as Trixie nodded slowly.

"Means you're a nice person, with a big heart and that you care about them." Chloe's voice dropped to a low comforting murmur "But... whatever he's doing, we have to move on okay? Do our own things?"

 _Truth is, I don't know..._

Chloe didn't have the heart to say the words aloud. Not yet anyway. Even if she did, the sod would likely turn up the next day at the precinct like nothing had ever happened. It was a little bit of turmoil that she didn't want to subject her daughter to just yet.

 _Truth is, he might never be back..._

"Okay" Trixie brightened, twisting a little to peer at the bookshelf next to the bed.

Chloe, followed her gaze, glad for the distraction from her tangled thoughts. "Now, which story shall we have tonight then?"

Trixie smiled in anticipation, small hands curling around the edge of the duvet. "How about the one about the tiger?"

Chloe trailed her finger along the colourful spines. _Hm, the curious tale of a large wild tiger that comes into a family home, devours everything and then just leaves... Huh, no..._ Her finger kept moving along, skipping over that particular tale for tonight.

"I know..." she arched a conspiratorial brow, "how about the one about the astronaut?" Chloe infused the question with such mischievous excitement that Trixie's grin spoke volumes in response.

"Come on then, shuffle over." she waggled a hand for Trixie to scoot over a little.

Chloe stretched out on top of the duvet, along the edge of the narrow bed, as she flicked the book open to the first page. Trixie snuggled in close, leaning contentedly against her shoulder and Chloe pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head before she began to read.

"Well alright then, let's begin..."

.

.

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* * *

Chloe left Trixie's bedroom on tiptoe as her daughter slept. The soft bump of the wooden door knocking against its frame being the only sound in the otherwise quiet household.

Glancing at the sign on the door, Chloe was suddenly tempted to pluck it down, her fingers already reaching to peel one corner away.

 _Trixie - No boys allowed, except for Lucifer and Dad._

She huffed a sigh.

 _Lucifer..._

His name was scrawled up there for all to see, in Trixie's handwriting, right in the heart of their home and frankly it had no damn right to be.

It was tiring pretending that he was coming back. Nobody knew what he was up to, nobody had heard a single thing.

She drifted into the kitchen, setting the kettle on to boil.

Two weeks...

Chloe reached distractedly for the coffee.

 _A whole fortnight since that call._

"Hello, it's me... Lucifer. Um, I just wanted to apologize for being, well, for being so elusive."

His smooth voice had been relaxed, happy even. Maybe a little apprehensive, but there was no hint of the vanishing act that would follow.

"So I'm coming over now to tell you the truth about me."

Those were his _exact_ words. I'm coming over now... Chloe stirred her coffee slowly, watching the surface whirlpool lazily around her spoon.

Lucifer never lied, it was a big thing for him, a matter of honour. Honour... Chloe huffed. Who even talked like that any more? It was a trait he declared proudly and until now it had been, as far as she could tell, entirely true.

"I think it's time I finally opened your eyes as to why strange things sometimes happen around me. Why my brother's so saintly and Maze is so not... and I'm so... well... magnetic."

He had sounded so sincere, if a little amused by his own descriptions.

"No more going backwards. Seriously, I... I want to tell you everything."

It was so unlike him to stutter over his words. So, like a total idiot, she had stayed up long into the night waiting for him to arrive.

Chloe stared unseeing at her coffee, fingers laced together loosely around the mug, thinking back to that night.

She'd woken up the next morning still curled on the sofa, back creaking and neck stiff from the slumped position. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes it was clear that he hadn't shown up and a bleary glance at her phone confirmed that he hadn't left any further message. Hardly the first time he had pulled a no show, but she'd been so sure he meant it this time. Her messages from the previous night had been ignored and when she tried to call the line just rang until it clicked over to voice-mail. Whatever he was doing, he wasn't picking up.

 _Well doesn't that just feel familiar..._

It was a punch to the gut, frankly it hurt.

 _Just like the slow burn of embarrassment, waiting at a restaurant for him never to arrive. Having to bravely ignore the pitying glances of the waiters. Just like the sting of disbelief at leaving hospital after being poisoned, after nearly dying, to find her messages unanswered. Just like the sucker punch of walking into to his apartment and seeing everything shrouded in dust sheets, realising he had left, perhaps for good, without a single word._

When she got to work that morning, Chloe had half expected Lucifer to already be there, loitering idly around her desk. But instead there was only the Ruiz case paperwork stacked up and ready to greet her.

Paperwork, a foe that Lucifer studiously avoided. It had never been his style to actually pitch in and help on that aspect of police work. Hell no.

As that first morning dragged on, with the completion of every form, her mood had soured further and further. Worry, anger, frustration all jangling about and curdling deep inside. Would he be that much of a bastard to leave such a message and not mean it?

At midday she stopped by Lux, just in case something was up. She had gasped at the sight of his beloved piano smashed apart, strewn far across the floor, nothing more now than a heap of expensive kindling. Her stomach had lurched in alarm when she thought of how much force it would have taken to create such devastation. There were clues indicating a violent fight everywhere.

Something serious had clearly happened. She reached instinctively for her phone, but still he didn't pick up.

It begged the question, beyond the case they'd been working on, what else was going on in his life?

How often had she found him unexpectedly bruised and downbeat? Those moments where he'd brush off her concern with a disarming smile and some vague description of a private altercation. "Oh this? Just a family tiff Detective, really it's nothing at all."

No matter how many times she offered an olive branch, a simple shoulder to lean on, he simply would not seek help. Thinking back he always moved the conversation away from anything too personal. Never outright lying but always happy to dodge around a painful truth when he felt it necessary.

Lucifer had threaded himself right through the fabric of her life. Apparently fascinated and delighted to be in the sphere of her company, attracted to her too if his outrageous lines were to be believed. He had snuck into the very heart of her home, work, friends and family.

 _But did she know him at all?_ She looked around the trashed penthouse again. He sure as hell hadn't mentioned any of this when they had last spoken on the pier.

Regardless, the hours of that first day had ticked by in a frantic rush after that. Ella checked her hospital contacts and the morgue. Just in case. But there were no admissions to match his description. Chloe had tried to track the GPS on Lucifer's phone, and they'd eventually found it discarded in the bushes outside the hospital.

So that gave a rough timeline at least, the last sighting being when he visited Linda's bedside late at night. Around the same time he left Chloe the message.

Maze had no clue to his whereabouts, but then she had been hovering faithfully at Linda's side at the hospital through the night. In truth she didn't seem _at all_ concerned. She firmly believed that Lucifer was very capable of looking after himself. That if he had gone quiet, then it had been because he had chosen to do so. But something still gnawed at Chloe, the thought that something terrible might have happened and she wasn't there to help when it counted. A feeling very much like guilt.

A crumpled piano and scattered keys... It was the loudest clue that something really wasn't right. A stark image that Chloe kept returning to, unable to shift it from her mind, as though a sacred part of Lucifer had somehow been vandalised. She didn't know if he was okay, and it was worrying, so she fell back on ingrained instincts and reacted like the detective that she was.

As the first day rolled over into the second, Chloe even tried chasing leads through the local airports and hotels, but no tickets or rooms had been booked under that extraordinary name. She pulled whatever resources she could, but each road of enquiry met with a dead end.

In fact, none of the clues really added up. There was a distinct lack of dust sheets laid out in the penthouse, this wasn't a planned trip like before. He adored fiddling with his phone, why would he just throw it aside? He had been so sincere on that call, no hint given whatsoever that anything else might be going on.

At the core of it, she just couldn't believe he would lead her on to that degree. To haltingly offer the truth, and then just skip town? They were friends weren't they? Daily partners at work, a damn good team. At the very least they were friends too, whatever other options they might have been dancing around. Surely he had more respect for her than that?

Eventually, by the end of the second day, it had been Dan that had sought a private moment at the precinct, snagging them an unused interview room.

"I know you don't want to think it Chloe, but do you think maybe he just decided to leave? I mean... It's not like the guy doesn't have form already for pulling this kind of stunt?"

He meant well, his brow furrowed and voice heavy with concern. "Lucifer has done this before and been completely oblivious about how it affects others..." _Especially how it affects you._ He didn't say the words, but then he didn't need to.

Dan fidgeted "I tracked down Amenadiel" His voice flattened out with resignation. "He knew about the damage at Lux. He said Lucifer was totally fine last he saw, that it was just a family thing that got out of hand. He thinks..." Dan frowned, his voice softening "He thinks Lucifer just needs a bit of time away... maybe... You know? something like that?"

Another family fight? Chloe shook her head. It would make one hell of a Jerry Springer episode the way the Morningstar clan carried on.

Was it pity she caught in Dan's eye? It lit a match on her pride, she couldn't _stand_ it.

She crossed her arms defensively and nodded, feeling suddenly incredibly stupid, breathless with anger, her expression becoming utterly stony. Outwardly projecting dignity and calm, but inside she was reeling. What an idiot to have worried that something had happened, to have feared the very worst...

After that the days bled into one another, one week rolling by, then two...

Nobody heard a thing.

At what point was she supposed to tell her daughter that he had left? At what point was she supposed to admit it to herself?

But how could she when at any moment the bastard might just swing back into her life like nothing had happened? Maybe something really had happened? Maybe it hadn't... It was maddening..

This whole thing echoed miserably in her memory, back to a hollow phrase she had hidden behind before.

It is what it is...

.

.

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* * *

Chloe blinked hard, sniffing a little as she peered at the cold surface of her untouched coffee.

She straightened up with sudden determination, lit only by the bright glow from her phone. She scrolled through the menus until she found that particular voice message.

With a swift jab of the thumb she hit delete.


	4. Chapter 4

How quickly did the Host turn their backs on those that fell?

Within a heartbeat many had shifted their gaze inward, blinking in the dusty aftermath, looking toward the pale citadel with a collective sigh of gratitude and relief. So much bloodshed had been avoided with that single decisive blast of divine light.

Bells were quick to ring out from the high spires. Beautiful arpeggios that rose and fell over each other in pure harmonic joy. It was a welcome replacement to the shrill warning of the trumpets, but not everyone cheered at the sound.

Some looked down, dazed with sorrow and regret, sickened at the cheers that split the air around them.

A few beheld the misery of the fallen and simply wept.

 _The fallen were on their own now..._

 _._

 _._

* * *

It was a deep ragged chasm without end, a vast split in the fabric of creation, crooked as a smile. The lower levels were a tangled maze of unspeakable darkness. This was _it_ , the end of all things. Slip from the treacherously steep path that wound up either side here and you might just fall forever.

Soft ash covered everything, a dusting that none could escape. It fell constantly from the great fiery mouths of the volcanoes that littered the horizon. Meandering streams of molten rock snaked through the grey gloom, offering a comforting glow in the otherwise bleak landscape. It was hot, air thick enough to slice, a choking fume that clung to the back of the throat making thirst a constant companion. Arid, empty and dark, this place was so horribly different from the Silver City.

They had been falling for so long that there was little breath left to cry out when they finally landed.

In the beginning Hell was _so_ quiet...

.

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* * *

It took time to establish order in the chaos that followed.

 _You wanted free will?_ The implication seemed to be. _Then damn well forge it amongst yourselves. Fight for whatever scrap of power you can get, and then fight hard to keep it._

Down amongst the fallen, there were some that simply could not cope with the weight of their despair. They lost their minds, forgetting their former selves as they fled into the very furthest reaches of the chasm. They sought only solitude in which to contemplate and dwell on their grief. They became twisted and pale, ghostly creatures of utter silence, little more than eerie bright eyes reflecting faintly in the gloom.

Follow those lights and you would never be seen again...

Many others were consumed by thoughts of anger and revenge, they burned with it. They pointed fingers of blame at both God _and_ Samael. Haggard, twisted and irrevocably changed by the fall, these strange demonic beings became ruthless. All thought of compassion or companionship long gone. Hostile and loud, these demons sought only power, cruel entertainment and whatever dominion they could muster over the others stuck in this wasteland. Envy and spite drove them into violent madness. They cackled and spat, clawing at the walls as they constantly plotted.

A third of heaven had been abandoned down here to tear itself apart, and without someone in command it would do just that.

Only one symbol of divinity remained intact, the softly glowing wings of the Lightbringer. Their perfect beauty survived as either a cruel joke or a potent reminder of hope, it was hard to tell. Whatever their _intended_ purpose they protected Samael during the initial scramble for power. The fallen would cower before his wings, cringing back into the shadows, feeling unworthy to look upon them. The light reminding all of what they had been, of the vast wealth they had lost, and it stung bitterly.

Others were drawn to him like moths to a flame. They _longed_ to stay a while in the halo of that pale light. Bowing at his feet in deference and adoration for the archangel that stalked in their midst. Willing to serve the one whose back was still visibly touched by the hand of God.

The light from his wings became a pivot point, a focus around which the construction of Hell could turn and function.

It was only natural that the Archangel would be the prime candidate to rule.

Samael's skin however had been utterly ruined in the fall, stripped back and left red raw, completely at odds with the pristine wings. As handsome as he had once been, now he was frighteningly grim. At first the pain had been unbearable, even the slightest touch an agony, so breathtakingly intense that it took him to the edge of insanity. But one thought centred him, enabling him to endure those early red-hazed days, the desire to spite his father.

His sense of betrayal was so overwhelming and his anger so utterly incandescent that his eyes burned a vivid red when he thought too long on it. Even his devotees fled then when the fury was upon him. If there had been a physical door between the realms, he would have _slammed_ it shut, wanting nothing more to do with Heaven.

Often he would be found seated alone at the edge of the chasm, legs dangling out over the long drop, wings crouched defensively over his body. It was difficult to find a position that didn't cause some pain, the extensive scars from the fall were so deep and permanent. But still he would sit for hours, still and quiet apart from the slight tremor of his limbs and the hitch in his chest.

He sat, head tilted towards the ever clouded sky as he lost himself in endless circles of thought.

 _Even if there was, somehow, a way back to the Silver City, would he take it?_

The answer came easily, he had never been one to lie, not even to himself.

 _No._

 _So what then is the purpose of all this?... Why not just destroy us all?_ It was a miserable and bitter thought that, as always, control of his own destiny was just beyond his reach. _All part of some miraculous ineffable bloody plan..._

Even here, after everything, he was probably following a path set long, long ago. The whole rebellion, all of it, that was probably in the grand script too.

 _Play the tune Dad and watch us all dance._

But what was the alternative? Let someone else rule?

 _No... that wouldn't do at all..._

Those that had the stamina turned their efforts to building an echo of the heavenly citadel. Built from the jagged dark rock of the landscape it ended up a crude sinister copy, but still it was something to focus on. Perched on the very top edge of the precipice, it bit hard into the steep rock on one side. Pillars like long teeth dug down for miles into the chasm. As far as the elegant heavenly spires reached up, the twisted columns of Hell delved down.

Factions were quick to form and to fall apart as the dust settled on this new realm. Rebellions and fights broke out frequently, but any attempt upon Samael himself was ultimately futile. He could pull the darkest secrets out into the light with merely a look, so it was incredibly difficult to trick him. How could you stage a coup against one able to see your hidden desires? And he had been part of _the family._ His power and ability outstripped any of the others that had fallen with him.

Many fools tried though, and many were cast down into the void. The lucky ones retreated, licking their wounds, crawling back into the shadows to bide their time.

Down here there was _plenty_ of time, there was an eternity in which to wait and watch for the right moment.

As formidable as Samael could be, _whatever the grand plan_ , one thing was clear, he needed company. Someone to watch his back in this treacherous society. And, loathe as he would be to admit it, he knew that loneliness would eventually gnaw at him.

So, when construction of the citadel was complete, it marked the death of Samael. The name simply had to go, along with the hopes and ideals of the old life. It was time to become thing else.

In the end it was _Lucifer_ alone who climbed the steps to take the throne for himself.

 _So much better to reign an eternity in Hell,_ he convinced himself, _than to serve a single hour in Heaven._

So rule he did.

.

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* * *

 _Lucifer trudged..._

It was a decent trudge as trudges went...

An endless dusty treadmill of repetition. One foot in front of the other, then another.. _then another..._

 _Prince of Lies, Beelzebub, The Deceiver, Lord of Air, Lucifer... Samael..._

His mind drifted randomly as he walked in the early dawn, aiming toward the rising sun. One hand curled lightly over his ribs, the other hanging at his side, wing-tips trailing behind him in the dust. He thought back to the mental hospital and the man who had been parading as his father, how that man had carelessly uttered the ancient name. A name he hadn't thought about for so long.

At the time it had made him start, snapping him around on the spin of a heel. It had given him a shiver up the spine that someone had recognised him as that... _as him..._

He stumbled over a stone and swore softly.

 _Samael._

With a huff he kicked the stone and vaguely watched it skitter away, bouncing off out of sight.

The burning fury of earlier had died down now like a collapsed bonfire. A shadow of what it had been, but it flickered still and would be easily stoked back up into a fierce heat if provoked.

Every once in a while he would try stretching his wings out. They were unwieldy, as uncoordinated as a newborn foal's legs, but he was getting more used to the weight and how it affected his balance. He had to keep exercising them, they were his ticket out of this place. It was either that or walk all the way.

 _Wherever this place was..._

Lucifer lifted his eyes to the sun creeping up over the horizon.

 _Just keep going in one direction_ he reasoned, _and eventually you'll get somewhere._ Keeping the dawn to his front and the dusk to his back was the plan.

At least until he could fly.

Looking down at his damaged skin he frowned dully, it was still so blistered and raw. He felt like his whole body was creaking with weariness. But compared to what he had experienced in the past, it certainly wasn't the worst that had ever happened to him.

 _Because you didn't fall as far this time..._

Lucifer muttered a low _'hmph'_ at the thought. A small mercy.

He heard a clink of icecubes and perked up, lips smacking at the thought of an icy tumbler of something smooth, dark and very alcoholic.

He opened his eyes, just as he was beginning to tilt over. It took a brisk shake of the head to clear it from the unconsciousness constantly nipping at his heels.

This was going to be a long boring walk if he kept collapsing or nodding off like that.

He _had_ to just keep moving...

.

.

.

* * *

 _Thanks for sticking with me as I meander about in the War of Heaven period flashbacks... There's only one more to come later that I'm planning on, the rest of the story is all very much present day. Thank you also for all the kind and constructive feedback and favourites. They keep me going and I'm grateful for each one more than I can possibly express 3_


	5. Chapter 5

The sun was dipping low over the horizon, rolling out of view in a fading splash of gold.

Lucifer ignored it, keeping his back turned on the warm distant glow, following his long shadow into the night instead.

The sun and moon had wheeled around several times, he wasn't really sure how often. He hadn't bothered to keep track. He walked when he could, stretched his wings when bearable and slept only when he fell.

 _Why weren't there any damn roads?_ One of those handy strips of tarmac would eventually lead somewhere, if only he could find one.

Frustratingly though, the landscape still all looked the bloody same.

A little while back there had been a cluster of bushes that had been reasonably entertaining. The obscene shape quite a wonder. Even out here he had paused the infernal slog long enough to laugh and appreciate what a minx nature could be. But apart from that amusing little distraction there wasn't much else to write home about. Just the same unending stretch of scrub desert far as the eye could see.

Lucifer kept determinedly putting one foot in front of the other, eyes lowered to his sore and aching feet. He grimaced at how the once fine hem of his trousers had become such a shredded, dusty ruin.

 _No phone, no shirt, no shoes, no vices of any kind._ He shook his head at what he had been reduced to.

Nudity had certainly never bothered him, but walking out in the elements for so long with such little clothing was starting to feel strange. He'd grown accustomed to the feel of rich silks and Egyptian cotton worn smooth against his skin, expensively tailored to best accentuate his lean frame. It was a daily ritual to choose something enchantingly bespoke to wear, usually opting for a sharp three piece adorned with the glint of cuff-links and exquisite shoes that flashed a scarlet sole. He wore it all with honest delight, knowing that it covered his form to the most devastating effect.

And he _really_ liked to devastate.

Mortals could be wonderfully creative, for good or ill, and he revelled in their craftsmanship. Compared to the stiff dullard tunics of heaven their fashion was so decadent, he really couldn't resist experimenting with it. The comfort had become routine, part of his life, and now even that small private pleasure had been stripped away.

The dark torn hem of one leg flapped and dragged through the dirt with each weary step.

 _I'm little more than a... a... what was it again?... Hobo magician?_ He rasped a chuckle to himself, bemused at the thought.

Lucifer tentatively reached up to the raw wounds on his chest and neck, wondering if they would leave pale scars in time, they were certainly taking long enough to heal properly. He knew he looked a state, his hair a wild mess and skin caked with dust and long dried blood. But however bad the damage, he was still immortal, none of this was likely to outright kill him.

The daytime blazing heat of the desert was relentless and soporific, the lazy crickets singing a lullaby as he stumbled along. Conversely the chill of the night would cause him to pull the wings protectively tight around his body as he shivered and scowled. It was several shades of awful, but thirst, cold, hunger and heat wouldn't kill him, it would take a lot more than that.

He just needed to find a damn road... something... and he'd be out of here.

His thoughts veered aside dramatically at the re-appearance of that curiously obscene looking constellation of bushes. Shuffling to a halt he tilted his head to one side warily. "Come on now..." he murmured slowly "I've seen you before, I _know_ I have." He frowned, regarding the wonky long central bush with deepening suspicion.

Lucifer scowled, did they all just grow like that? He peered about in the fading light, brow furrowed in growing confusion.

Did this place feel familiar?...

There was an icy prickle of dread up the back of his neck as his gaze darted around. "What... the...?" His haltingly slow question registered barely above a whisper.

It did.

Scouring the ground in the moonlight he could distinguish vague imprints and scuffs, signs of bare feet here and there. He lifted his foot into one imprint slowly and to his horror it fitted exactly. _But how?_ He'd been walking a long vague straight line according to the stars and sun. _Hadn't he?_ There was no way he would be fool enough to walk round and around in a loop, _was there?_

Lucifer squinted around, trying to understand as panic squeezed tight across his lungs.

Was he reliving the same day? _No.. no, no, it couldn't be that..._

 _Was this Hell?_

Lucifer staggered back at the thought, shaking his head firmly. This wasn't it, he knew exactly what his own hell looked like. It was his hand clasped around the hilt of an ancient blade as he lunged it over and over again into his brothers gut. It was Uriel's lifeblood soaking his palm. It was the look of surprise on his brothers face as Lucifer _killed_ him, as that precious light of existence flickered out.

Hell was a cold prison, dressed up like Lux, where the very worst moment of his long life played over and over again into eternity.

He grimaced, incredulous, staring at the marks on the dusty ground, at his own footprints. His mind going blank with doubt. He _knew_ he should have made at least some progress by now, he'd been walking for so bloody long. This didn't feel right, none of it, his tentative hold on reality faltered under the sudden weight of doubt and suspicion.

Was this a monumental rug-pull trick, with him as the idiot mark?

"Where am I!" He shouted accusingly at the night sky, his fury sparking at the notion of being toyed with, for having the painful memories of Uriel's death forced to the forefront of his mind once more.

He stared around wide eyed, trying to get his bearings. It felt familiar, but then how much attention had he really been paying? Was it his own fault, was he not thinking straight, was this some kind of trick of the desert? Mortals died out here getting lost didn't they?

He paced, uncertain of what to do, like a cornered animal. "What is this?" he pleaded, his eyes glittering with the onset of despair "Why are you d _oing_ this to me?"

Lucifer paused, staring upwards awhile before shaking his head, dissolving into an exhausted chuckle of manic laughter. "Still punishing me..." He pressed a trembling hand hard against either side of his head, pulling at his hair, whining a low _"you are aren't you?"_

With a savage growl of frustration he suddenly gripped one wing with both fists, yanking it hard, pulling himself around in a tight spin. _"Then what were these for?"_ He screamed, eyes flashing a brilliant red. Pain exploded across his back enough to make him cry out and drop to a knee, but still he attacked the wings. With a wild frantic desperation he surged upright, clawing and tearing his fingers through the soft quills, it was self-inflicted agony, but try as he might the damn things could not be damaged. Not a single feather broke free. He twisted around striking out brutally, thrashing to be free of them, finally falling hard in the dirt, unable to escape.

They had shone so brilliantly in the depths of Hell, even in the darkest pit of creation they were beautiful, they had probably saved his life more than once down there. But here and now they felt an insult and a burden. A ball and chain slapped to his ankle once more, inescapable.

Breathing hard, he eventually came to a stop, hands going limp as he lay sprawled on his side. More laughter bubbled up from within, turning into a grim shiver as he remembered when Maze had originally cut them from his back. He pressed his face into the crook of an elbow, blotting out the soft glow of the damned wings.

She'd been so hesitant, twirling her wickedly curved daggers around in a nervous loop, the sharp edges catching the bright moonlight. A nervous flick and twitch from one usually so bold and sure. The beach had been empty, a blessing given they had just appeared fresh from nowhere, it was just them, the stars and the gentle sigh of the waves. He remembered having to insist, to command her to do it fast and to _keep going_ until it was done. She had cringed unseen as she sliced a deep swathe through his flesh, having to ignore the way his body arched and the strangled sob of pain when he was finally separated from them.

Lucifer blinked in the fierce daylight, gasping back into consciousness. He squinted in confusion as he lifted his head from the sheltered crook of his arm. He was still sprawled on his side in that horribly familiar stretch of desert. Time had slipped by, maybe hours had been lost in the span of a couple of brief seconds.

He had been dreaming, a frighteningly vivid experience at the time, but only fragments remained in his memory now.

 _The spires of heaven had lanced sharply through his back, pinning him in place. Deep red blood had splashed down across his pale luminous feathers, staining them irrevocably. He had been left to hang high and alone like a pathetic flag amongst the fluttering silver pennants. No matter how much he shouted, no-one was coming to help him down. The pennants had whipped and trailed through the air lazily, knotting around him, like the slow limbs of a poisonous sea creature. They had tangled around his wrists and ankles until he was drowning in the fabric, unable to breathe._

Lucifer rolled onto his bruised back, regardless of wings splayed out beneath him, letting his heart rate and breathing settle down as he stared at the stars. Willing the sense of helplessness to fade.

He felt little inclination to rise to his feet and resume the walk. Suddenly the endeavour felt pointless. His thoughts returned instead to Maze. She had served him well that first night. With the perspective of hindsight, and with everything he had learned from his sessions with Linda, he could look beyond himself and appreciate how the deed must have been difficult for her too. He had destroyed so much, not only casting away his own options, but hers as well. Mazikeen, as ever, had shouldered her duty valiantly. She had been the one to drag him upright and support him as they sought shelter, fetching and hiding his wings soon afterwards. She had tended to his deep scars as they healed. Wounds that he couldn't quite reach for himself. She had stood watch over him as he had fallen into a fitful sleep.

Maybe it had all been more than duty, maybe she had actually cared about him even back then?

The memory of a single tear sliding down her cheek in Linda's office was a vivid one. In all the time Lucifer had known Mazikeen, she had never cried, not once. Yet there she had been, glassy eyed and barely able to look at him as they had finally spoken in depth about his plan, however fake it had been, to return to Heaven. A place that she could never, ever hope to follow. He had hurt her. The pain of her abandonment had crystallised so clearly in that moment, and he'd been such a fool not to realise what he had done. He'd been so thoughtless, an idiot not to see that she might actually care, that there might be a genuine friendship he might inadvertently crush, he'd taken _so much_ for granted.

At some point, they had become friends.

Lucifer rocked his head a little from side to side, letting the thoughts swirl as he stared upward into the sky. Perhaps she wasn't the only one that he had been thoughtless with, but to be self-reliant and self centred was the _only_ way to survive in Hell. It was a hard trait to relinquish. Out of necessity he had centred on himself for millennia, if he hadn't others would have been quick to overthrow him.

He sighed deeply, turning his thoughts toward the one mortal he had wanted to please, who had fascinated him utterly, who he was missing so intensely.

Of all the temptations dancing around him in the desert, of all the mortal vices that he indulged in whenever able, there was only one at the centre of it all that caused him to truly ache. But even that was tainted, even _she_ had been selected and put in place for him years ago. His features scrunched up at the thought of Chloe, his precious detective. His feelings for her soured by the truth that even she was part of the grand bloody plan.

Free will was such a despicably cruel joke.

Lucifer let the tears fall unheeded as they trailed their way through the dirt on his skin. Looking up through dark lashes he only uttered a single weary question.

 _"...what do you want?"_


	6. Chapter 6

Ella rolled her gloves off with an elastic snap, looking up from her microscope as Chloe hovered at the doorway.

"Hey, you ready?" The detective drummed her fingers lightly against the door frame, her smile hesitant. Having a supportive group of drinking buddies was still a relatively new experience and it still made her feel a little awkward.

Ella grinned in response as she safely stored her experiment away. She slapped off the stereo and swung her bag up onto her shoulder with one easy movement, bouncing across the room with a drawl of "Girl, I was _born_ ready."

A whole month had passed since Linda had been attacked. Her tentative s.o.s request to the tribe for a gentle night out had been universally welcomed as a chance to have the first proper group catch up in weeks. She had been shuttered away at home, healing well and coming to terms with what had happened. Still a little shaky when she thought too long about the fact it was an actual _deity_ that had attacked her, but given everything, the petite psychiatrist was as indomitable and upbeat as ever.

Linda just really needed some time in good company to break the monotony of recovery. She wasn't quite one hundred percent yet, but some time with her friends would break up the quietude and hopefully prove therapeutic.

They'd settled on somewhere close to her home, a chic little bar that hit the sweet spot between lively and low-key. Somewhere that did cocktails but also a decent coffee if required. They could curl up in a quiet booth away from the small dance-floor, drink decent liquor if they wanted to, sip freshly squeezed juice over ice if they didn't, people watch to their hearts content and put the world to rights.

It was an unspoken agreement that they would definitely _not_ be heading to Lux.

The others were already there when Chloe and Ella arrived, deep in conversation, tucked into a high-backed booth over by a corner window. Linda was resting against a cushion, leaning back slightly from the streaming golden light cast by the setting sun outside. Next to her Maze was carefully perched, spinning a beer bottle idly between her hands. She snatched it to a halt when she spotted them arriving.

Chloe and Ella grinned, thrilled to see their friend up and about. "Hey, don't get up", Chloe fluttered her hands to stop Linda from rising as they exchanged gentle hugs of greeting.

Mazikeen gave them all a firm nod, rising to stand protectively more like a bodyguard next to her friend, patiently enduring Ella's enthusiastic embrace whilst flagging down a waiter over her shoulder. She needed a fresh beer, and quickly, if there was going to be any more of _that_.

Sliding into the seat opposite, Chloe scrutinised Linda discreetly. She was a little pale, but already so much improved from when they had last met only a week before. "Hey, you doing okay? You're looking really well."

Linda shrugged and smiled as they each gave their orders to the waiter. "I'm just taking it easy" she was dressed for comfort in a finely knitted grey wrap dress and her trademark thick glasses, reclining back again on the suede cushion as she spoke. "But I'm getting there."

Maze resumed her seat with a low impatient grumble of "you people are so fragile", but she followed it up with a swift look of affection. She was an excellent bounty hunter and relished the ferocity of her job, but in the last month she had turned down all contracts, choosing instead to remain completely at Linda's beck and call throughout the recovery process. The near death of her friend had shaken Maze deeply, her new-found anxiety finding an outlet only through a massive spike in her protective feelings for the petite psychiatrist.

As the waiter returned, Ella lifted her cocktail solemnly "well Ladies... to Linda!" They each hoisted their drinks aloft, chinking the glassware together, swiftly followed by Linda's husky chuckle of amusement as she toasted "to tribe!"

"So, how is the case progressing, do they have any leads yet on who attacked you?" Chloe leant forward on the table, all business and keen to help.

Linda and Maze exchanged a quick glance before shaking their heads in unison.

"No.. no, they're probably long gone." Linda rested her glass of mineral water on the table, spreading her hands wide. "We've had this conversation before and I appreciate it, but it's fine, really. You can help me so much more by being here for me like this... truly." She could see that Chloe wasn't satisfied, that she was chafing to dive head first into the investigation, but she had to be diverted away from it, whatever the cost. There was simply no easy way of explaining the full picture of what really happened.

 _Well detective... handily enough I already know who did it... it was the divine Goddess of all creation._ She hated the deception, but it was the mother of all can-of-worms. She simply couldn't think of a reasonable way around it apart from blaming the attack on a random robbery gone wrong.

Ella twirled the colourful little paper umbrella in her pina colada thoughtfully. "Are you gonna be okay heading back into the office?"

They could all see Linda's hesitation at the thought of returning to the place where she nearly died. Chloe snaked her hand across the table to squeeze her arm in silent support.

Linda paused thoughtfully before nodding resolutely in response, appreciating the diversion away from Chloe's line of questioning.

"It'll be good for me to get back up and running." She spoke with soft determination, but truthfully she really didn't know. Ella and Chloe had already helped organise the removal of anything that would trigger flashbacks. The bloodstained carpet was long gone, but still. It was likely to be tough going at first. "Honestly, I miss the work, the people". With a gentle shrug she placed her hand over Chloe's, flashing her a small smile of thanks.

Ella slurped noisily on her cocktail with a contented sigh. "Mhmmmm, alright _that_ tastes nearly as good as the ones at Lux."

That was it, the _'L' word_ was out there, uttered aloud and hanging in the air between them all like a malevolent genie released. Ella tried not to flinch as Chloe's expression clouded. "Sorry man, I didn't mean to bring it up".

"No, no... it's okay." Chloe's heart sank a little, so far she had tenaciously avoided talking about Lux and Lucifer, shutting down and burying the tangled knot of feelings deep as she could, but it'd probably be hard to dodge the topic now. There had been four whole weeks of silence so far, it had certainly been rough at times, but at the root of it she just wanted to know what the hell happened.

She was a detective and the mystery of it all was killing her.

Mazikeen arched a sharp brow. "Oh c'mon Decker. Our house has never been so damn clean, you've hardly talked about it, it's clearly eating you up."

Chloe shot her a sceptical look, did her house-mate really want her to discuss her _actual_ feelings? Maze just shrugged. "What..." she muttered under her breath, "you're no fun lately."

"Is this an _intervention?_ " Chloe looked around at them all, suddenly fearing that there might have been an ulterior motive to their meeting up.

Linda was quick to jump in soothingly. "No... no-no... nothing like that, we just want to help."

Ella looked on with a furrowed brow, "Y'know, I still don't really understand it, did something..." she was clearly trying to choose her words with great care "I dunno... _happen_ between you and Lucifer before he vanished? _"_

Chloe shook her head and took a sip of her cosmopolitan in resignation. "No, no it didn't" she peered at Maze, needing to ask even though she knew the answer. "If he had been in touch, you'd tell me wouldn't you? I just... worry." She frowned at the massive understatement of her feelings. "That's what I don't get... this time, it really felt out of the blue. I mean... he _literally_ just said he was on his way over, and then nothing."

Maze, leant forward, holding her beer loosely, half raised to her lips. "Let's break it down Decker. It's going to be one of two scenarios." All eyes turned to her "He either left, or something happened." She shrugged at them like it was obvious.

Ella frowned. "Well, if something happened, we've searched pretty thoroughly. There was no sign of any foul play outside the hospital where we found the phone, the phone wasn't even damaged. No traces of blood or anything. It was incredibly slick if it was anything bad."

Maze rested her beer bottle down. "He really _can_ look after himself... trust me. I don't think it was anything like that."

"But what about the damage at Lux?" Chloe muttered in response.

There was a moment of quiet, frustratingly no-one had a decent answer to that.

"Maybe he has a thing about hospitals?" Ella shrugged thoughtfully "Or mortality?" Under the weight of their quizzical stares she forged ahead. "Hey, hospitals can hit people in a weird way. So much death and sickness, maybe he just _freaked?_ This whole thing, it might not be anything like what you're thinking

"Last time he disappeared, hadn't you been in hospital Chloe?" Linda peered across the table, considering the idea.

Chloe nodded, she had nearly died from poisoning and Lucifer had slipped quietly away after making sure she was okay. He had been there at her bedside when she had awoken, seemingly relieved at her recovery, but he certainly hadn't hung around afterwards. She never did find out the full details on what had happened whilst she was out of it. The first thing she knew of there being a problem was when she entered the penthouse days later to find everything covered in dust-sheets and the apartment cold and empty.

"Maybe he worries about losing people, so he vents that feeling by getting away until things have returned to normal?" Ella carried on, tapping the table top lightly as she spoke.

"Yeah, well last time he vented himself a wife." Chloe muttered darkly. "and that was only after two weeks. It's been four this time... Can you _imagine_ what he's been up to? If he pulls a stunt like that ever again I'll aim a little higher than his leg next time."

Ella snorted into her drink "Hang on... _next time?_ Are you saying you've actually shot Lucifer?" there was a hint of awe and amusement in her voice.

"Just the once, it was an accident." Chloe looked sheepish, throwing her hands up in defence. "Hey, he told me to do it, it was... an intense moment... I wasn't thinking!"

Ella dissolved into a fit of giggles. " _Jesus_ Decker!"

"It was quite the surprise at the time." Maze smirked enigmatically, then she peered at Chloe as if hesitant to speak. "If it helps..." She darted a look to Linda before continuing. "I think we would have definitely heard if something terrible had happened. News like that would get around. I don't think something happened... I think he's just skipped town for a while."

Chloe toyed with her drink, uncertain how to feel about Maze's advice. Lucifer had a degree of fame, well... notoriety, but she doubted that news would spread quite so fast about him. He wasn't _that_ well known surely? There was relief at how certain Maze was that Lucifer was alright, but then that left only anger at being played about with.

She was still stuck in the same miserable circle of concern, doubt, and anger. It was getting pretty tired.

Ella perked up as she twisted her attention towards the dance floor. Seeing Chloe's mood dip she slapped her hand suddenly on the table. "Oh my god guys I _love_ this track." She sagged a little with delight to emphasise the words. She gave Chloe a little nudge "hey, you wanna dance a little?"

Chloe flicked a look over to the small dimly lit dance-floor, it was completely deserted. With a look of mild horror she shook her head with a very definite no. Linda chuckled and likewise shook her head, quite content to rest back against her comfortable cushion. "I'm good too, you guys go for it though."

Maze looked questioningly to Linda, then back to Ella who was looking at her with a fantastic rendition of puppy eyes. She regarded the young woman critically for a moment, tilting her head, then smiled with far too many teeth. "Sure... why not."

As Ella and Maze strode over to the empty dance-floor, Linda chuckled softly. She leant forward across the table conspiratorially toward Chloe. "She's been... intense." Linda gave Maze a distant fond look "but she's been great, she really has."

Chloe grinned "I know what being her focus can be like, she's pretty full on sometimes huh?"

Over on the dance-floor it was like watching a baby gazelle frolic with a panther.

Mazikeen was the dictionary definition of 'slink' in her skin-tight leathers, whilst Ella bounced around her, all elbows, completely carefree in jeans and a band tee. Neither of them clearly giving a damn about who was watching.

Chloe and Linda paused to watch, tilting their heads in unison in appreciation. It was clear that everyone in the bar had picked up on it too, and was also watching in awe.

"She really can move can't she?" Chloe murmured in a low voice.

"Yep!" Linda gave the final 'p' a very succulent and thoughtful pop. _Demons really do have all the best moves._

"You know..." Linda spoke gently, casting Chloe a sidelong look "it's okay to talk about it."

Chloe sighed, looking down at her half empty glass. "I know."

"Just in case you ever need to, I'm here for you. You know that right?" Her voice was so soothing, her manner so compassionate that Chloe could appreciate why Linda's patient roster was always full. "This last month must have been incredibly hard on you."

"I just feel, such an idiot you know?"

Linda only nodded as her friend slowly put her thoughts in order, giving Chloe some space to try to work it out aloud.

"I don't need this kind of stress in my life." Chloe frowned, twirling her glass slowly "Trixie asks after him sometimes, I never know what to say."

"It feels so shitty trying to explain it to her, when I don't even really know myself what happened. Dan was happy to take her tonight, he... he thought I should come out." Chloe shrugged suddenly, finding a lump in her throat, which was ridiculous. There was no way she wanted to be getting emotional here on a rare tribe night out. She took a breath and swallowed it down. "He thought it would be good for me to have some fun with you guys."

"Hey, I'm not here as a therapist, I'm here as your friend." Linda gave a small encouraging nod, stressing the last word, urging her to continue.

"I guess I'm trying not to think about it." Chloe blinked to clear her vision. "If he has just wandered off like that, then I am _done_ on so many levels." Her expression turned grim as she sipped her drink.

How could she explain that every time there was an exclamation at work, she was expecting it to be Lucifer. Every time she heard a British accent she perked up, anticipating the purred exclamation of "Detective!" like nothing at all had happened. Every time a door slammed at the precinct her traitor heart would leap just a little. The jolts of anticipation were lessening with time, but still there would be that little flutter of _what if_.

He was so loud, colourful and unpredictable that he'd left an aching vacuum of mayhem in the centre of her life. She just couldn't shake the nagging thought, the gut feeling, that somehow the whole situation was wrong. That somehow he needed her. But then... her thoughts would flip right back around and remind her that he had damn well done this kind of thing before, that he was bad news and that she was far better off without him.

Two weeks had rolled by into three, then faded into four. A whole month had passed without word from the wayward bastard. During this time Chloe's emotional state had settled some, but still it could easily tilt into anger, concern or bitterness.

When people asked, all she could do was say that she was fine, but frankly inside she felt anything but. The only way she knew how to deal with it was to crack on and do her job. It was her default position, how she coped. Like when things fell apart around the Palmetto case, when the precinct had formed ranks and turned against her, she had knuckled down and carried on. She had managed it then, she could damn well do it now too.

Chloe eventually crooked half a smile "unless he's dead, I really _am_ going to kill him for this."

She looked up to see that Linda had rested a hand on her arm.

"This is all beyond your direct power to fix." Linda murmured. "and it's not clear if you'll ever get an answer. So you're stuck in a frustrating kind of suspended animation, which would be hard for anyone to endure. Go easy on yourself and just take it a day at a time." Linda flashed a smile of encouragement. "It's alright _not_ to feel okay. If I'm honest..." She paused, toying with her glass "I thought he seemed a little different when I last saw him."

Chloe looked up sharply at that. They hadn't talked about those last moments in great detail, Linda had been so ill in hospital, it was something that could wait.

"He was rather..." Linda frowned slightly, trying to find the right words "subdued. He seemed calm though and really quite considerate. He genuinely only wanted to focus on me."

"Do you think something happened?" Chloe arched a brow.

Linda puffed out a sigh. "I wish I could tell you, but I really don't know." The lack of answers seemed to utterly exasperate her too.

As the others strolled back from the now packed dance floor to rejoin the table, Chloe rested her hand over Linda's. Offering a quick squeeze of silent and heartfelt gratitude. She then lifted her hand to flag down the waiter again, this was a tribe night damn it. She was with her friends, she was going to push it all from her mind for tonight and try to have some fun.

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* * *

 _A/N: The reunion is coming soon, I promise ;)_


	7. Chapter 7

Hell became rather interesting when mortal souls started to arrive.

Gods precious little creations were spared the pain of a long drop and lungfuls of ash choked air. Instead they awoke, blinking and confused, locked away inside their own personal cells.

The chasm became littered with grim little grey doors, new clusters appearing everyday, like a rash across the dark rock walls. Whatever horror played out behind each one was unique, an individually crafted scenario tailored to the person it had spawned for.

Down here, mortals would face their worst memories, the sharpest moments of guilt that pricked the conscience. It was impossible to escape the hard truth of their own misdeeds in life, here at the reckoning, and no-one _ever_ managed to break free of their own cells.

Was hell being stuck with other people, or was it an eternity alone? Now they would finally find out.

In the beginning Lucifer was furious with his new neighbours, these creatures had received freewill and squandered it away. A gift so enormous they had no concept of its existence or true value. It was incredibly frustrating, he could barely contain his irritation at being made the unwilling caretaker of their souls.

He felt only pleasure when he witnessed them receiving a fragment of the suffering he himself had endured.

Lucifer had not tempted these creatures down to Hell, or sought their company, they fell of their own accord. They were all here because in one way or another, they deserved it.

He did not select their ultimate punishment either, they were adept enough at determining that too. They were far more twisted and ingenious than he would have ever have given them credit for.

Each cell materialised around the individual mortal soul when it arrived, the punishments scripted by their _own_ memory and imagination. What was there for him to do but ensure the doors remained locked and undisturbed by the more savage demons?

Lucifer did not like to dwell on the fact that he was just as damned as his new guests. They provided a fine distraction from that miserable train of thought anyway, the irresistible temptation to crack a cell door ajar and witness how each private hell played out.

Temptation always was a weak spot, so he looked upon many.

He would dip into the cells to observe the punishment, learning fragments about the mortal realm in the process. He saw their cunning, greed and regret, whatever had caused their ticket to Hell. Sometimes though he would also glimpse things of beauty and grace, taunting facets of the torture, memories of precious things that these creatures had lived with and lost.

Occasionally he would engage the mortals in conversation, once he had calmed them enough to be coherent, making them explain what the mysterious innovations were.

The complexity of the private hells advanced with each passing century. There were snatches of strange music, remarkably fine clothing, miraculous and fast machinery. It was confusing and yet enchanting. Bit by bit, Lucifer's loathing of humanity slowly shifted to an unexpected kind of fascination.

It sparked the desire to travel and witness these things first hand for himself.

His wings would permit him access to the mortal realm, even beyond if he wished, but he'd never felt the appetite to venture to either, especially Heaven. He knew what kind of welcome would await him there.

It was possible though, it could be done.

When he eventually took flight and walked amongst the mortals, it proved thrilling. His dark eyes had glittered with delight, his smile as broad as Mazikeen had ever seen it when he finally returned.

It was a playground, each soul walking a knife-edge, with everything yet to be decided. So much more interesting than the dreary souls who were already damned down in Hell. For them the battle was already lost.

Lucifer's faithful bodyguard watched the change in him with wary concern. Only she could perceive how he was becoming more relaxed. As centuries rolled by he seemed more and more entertained by mortal company _._ He would often travel up through the realms to spend time on the _'front line of the battle'_ as he would call it, leaving her to defend the throne in his absence.

Mazikeen was often perplexed by the memento's he would return with.

* * *

"What..." Mazikeen stalked towards Lucifer with a look of deep suspicion "is _that?_ "

Lucifer folded his wings away and grinned to himself, turning to regard his personal demon with a feigned look of innocence. He reclined back against the dark stone balustrade that edged the wide balcony, heedless of the endless chasm yawning wide on the other side.

"And is it _supposed_ to be there?" Mazikeen had come to a halt, standing boldly in front of the Lord of Hell, arms folded over her chest. Her gaze transfixed.

She narrowed her eyes "why is it so... _big?_ "

Lucifer pushed the offending item to one side rakishly. "Well my dear, it's called a wig."

The two foot high puff of lavender coloured hair, attached to a scrap of fine grain netting, looked utterly foreign in Hell. But perhaps that was why it delighted him so.

"These things are all the rage up there, want me to snag you one?" His grin remained defiant under the onslaught of Mazikeen's glare.

He spun the wig around idly on his finger, a slow ridiculous loop, smiling as he watched it twirl out above the precipitous drop. Eventually his eyes swept back across to the throne room. "We really do need to get a piano down here." He looked over to Maze with a wide smile. "I had a little chat with the most interesting composer. You should have heard the _things_ he was coming up with." Lucifer chuckled to himself "I might have given him a _little_ pointer or two."

Maze remained unamused, she could see the creeping changes in him, even if he couldn't.

 _What if he ever upped and left Hell? Would he ever do that? Leaving her behind?_

He was enjoying their company... perhaps too much.

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* * *

Lucifer had lain alone in that same patch of desert, stretched out on his back, for a long time. From when the stars had silently faded out, to when they had shyly reappeared again one by one.

Sand had gradually dusted over his bare skin in a fine layer, but he was beyond caring any more.

From rose to blue to black he had lain awake under the ever changing sky, mentally travelling as far away as his memories could carry him.

He remembered that ridiculous wig, how successful that incredibly young composer had gone on to become.

His fingers drummed a little rhythm against his bare chest as he watched the stars slowly rotate across the sky. The sombre requiem written all those years ago, it seemed fitting. With a low huff he hummed the slow chord progression, remembering how perfect and painful the first live performance had been.

 _'Full of tears will be that day, When from the ashes shall arise, The guilty man to be judged; Therefore spare him...'_

He had been there, watching silently in the candlelight. Drawn to the music of the mortals, amazed at the divinity they could muster, when they really tried.

Out here, wherever here was, the sky was beautifully clear. No city pollution tainted the colours, no clouds blotted the view. The stars were sharp and bountiful, so close that they felt just a stretch of the arm away.

It was bewitching.

He tried, more than once, to scoop a handful of stars into his palm, reaching out to touch the tiny glittering shards of light, but they always hung just a little too far away.

The silhouette of his hands seemed so very dark and foreign against the tiny bright dots.

Stretching his fingers wide, he trailed them around through the air, imagining ripples undulating across the sky in their wake, as though he were skimming the surface of a vast dark sea. Eventually he paused, tracing a lone fingertip around the bright halo of the slim crescent moon.

Lucifer dropped his hands, folding them loosely together over his chest.

"How're you getting on Mum?" His voice was a gentle dry rasp, conversational and intimate.

He felt a pang of affection and loneliness as he looked up at the moon, trying to picture what she might have already created. A whole new realm, maybe a whole new family to replace the one she had lost.

 _Were there already new sons? New daughters?_

His eyes crinkled as he smiled faintly. "Make a good job of it won't you?"

He hoped she was happier.

 _Let there be light..._

There was a flicker of movement in the distance, just on the periphery of his vision. Lucifer rolled slowly over onto his side with a low grunt, his wings splayed out untidily around him like a grounded bird.

Two small brilliant lights were bouncing haphazardly on the horizon, the true distance hard to determine in the moonlight. Whatever it was, it was something _new_.

 _New was good... it had to be..._

Scrambling upright onto his knees he watched their strange progress, transfixed.

The twin lights were fast, travelling in a straight line, angling slightly away from where he was positioned.

His mind was too sluggish to comprehend exactly what he was seeing, but when realisation finally clicked it took his breath away.

 _Headlights... they were bloody headlights!_

He lurched to his feet, arms raised as the lights sped ignorantly onward. Gritting his teeth with the effort, Lucifer pushed the wings back and under control, folding each one away to vanish them from sight.

"Hey... Here!"

His voice was cracked and hoarse, there was no-way whoever was at the wheel would have been able to hear him.

Already he was stumbling into a run, arms waving madly and feet pounding. He staggered along at speed, but it was so dark and the lights were simply not stopping.

 _They weren't stopping..._

Lucifer's desperation bubbled over into fury. His volatile anger finally bursting free. This could not be happening. Not to him. Not after the whole litany of abuse he had endured out here.

His eyes flared a vivid red, his hand reaching out to claw at the distant vehicle.

 ** _"STOP!"_**

The command was absolute, a roar of sound that echoed across the barren desert, buffeting the distant car so much that rocked when the sound-wave hit. The engine stalled, as if in surprise, and the car swerved to a sudden violent halt.

Lucifer twisted his hand around to point impatiently at the ground near his feet.

His voice dropped to a low snarl whilst his eyes still burned. "Come _here_."

 _Why should he take another torturous step? The vehicle could damn well come to him._

The distant headlights hesitated, then they swerved around in a wide arc to face him. Ever so slowly they grew bigger as the vehicle made its wary approach.

Lucifer sagged, giddy with relief, his anger draining away as quickly as it had surged through him. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes, squinting into the dazzling approach of the lights. _At last... at long bloody last... here was a way out._

In the faint moonlight he could just about make out that it was a rather battered looking pick-up truck with only one occupant. Once it had rolled to a stop the driver leant over to throw the passenger door wide open for him.

"Woah, hey... there you are..." The driver beckoned him to sit, clearly shocked to find someone in his state out here alone. "c'mon, get in. I've got you brother..."

Lucifer clambered into the offered seat, one hand gripping the door handle tight as he slammed it shut behind himself, as if the car might float away like a desert mirage.

With barely a glance of acknowledgement offered to the driver he leant back against the cushioned headrest, slumping down with bone-deep exhaustion. His parched lips murmuring a low _"lovely"_ as his eyes slid shut.

He could feel the vibrations of the engine turning over, the rumble of the tyres spinning back into motion.

It was hypnotically real.

 _The very sweetest of sounds._

It didn't matter what direction they drove in, right now Lucifer didn't care, as long as it was far away from this place.

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* * *

 _A/N: The lyrics there are from Mozart's Requiem: Lacrimosa._


	8. Chapter 8

Lucifer blinked slowly, exhaustion still dragging raw against the edge of his awareness, he couldn't have been unconscious for anything more than a few minutes. The sky above was still dark, barely changed from when his eyes had flickered shut.

 _Not long enough by half._

He tucked his head to the side, hunching his shoulders toward the passenger door as the rumble of tyres vibrated reassuringly through the chassis. He felt fuzzy and dull witted, his lids immensely heavy as he rested his forehead against the cool surface of the faintly rattling glass.

The desert stretched out beyond the beams of the pick-up truck headlights, a vast unknown full of shifting shadows. It was moving though, he was leaving... _at last._

His dry lips twitched up into a brief smile.

There was a subtle swing of movement to the old vehicle, like a ship adrift on a slow rolling sea. It was strangely comforting how the suspension creaked and groaned as the truck tyres bounced along over unruly ground. Overhead a string of dark little beads hung from the rear view mirror, a collection of mismatched silver charms clinked together faintly in response to each undulating sway of the cab.

All colour felt muted, drained down and smothered by the night. The cabin itself was quite dark apart from the faint electric glow from the dashboard and the headlights outside. Dawn was still an hour or two away yet, barely a thin streak of promise on the horizon.

From the stereo drifted a harmonic pair of voices weaving around each other, only just audible over the rumble of tyres, a simple melancholy piano tinkling along underneath.

' _When you're down and out, when you're on the street...'_

Lucifer blearily lifted a hand to investigate the strange fabric that had been draped around his shoulders. A shirt apparently, well worn, velvet soft and immaculately clean. Certainly not one of his, it was covered in a thick and faded check pattern that might once upon a time have been a vibrant blue. In the faint light of the truck cab it looked just a meagre sort of grey.

 _'...when evening falls so hard... I will comfort you.'_

He wrinkled his nose at the garment, _checks... really?_ He was tempted to pluck it from his shoulder in disdain, but it was ridiculously comfortable where it was. He was content to let it remain... _well, if he must..._ for now. Unconsciously he pulled it a little tighter around himself.

The Devil certainly did not snuggle, but this was pretty close.

 _'I'll take your part, oh, when darkness comes. And pain is all around...'_

The constant motion of the vehicle was so soothing, his eyes slipped shut, his body rocking with each bump and roll of the truck.

 _No, no time for that... not yet..._

With a grunt of determination, he straightened his aching back against the worn cushions of the passenger seat, trying to stir himself. He dragged his fingers reluctantly from the fabric, up across the rough planes of his face. They traced over stubble grown too long, eyes gritty and skin filthy with dust. The vehicle swerved, a heaving lurch to one side, as the driver finally realised he was awake.

Lucifer squinted over accusingly when the truck bounced jarringly over a dip, a four lettered protest on the tip of his tongue, as he pinned his attention hard on the man at the wheel. The driver was warily glancing back in his direction.

His eyes were pale, almost luminous in the half light of the cab, a mellow green that spoke of distant misty forests full of ferns and moss. Chin-length auburn hair hung in a shaggy mess, pushed to one side to reveal pale freckly skin that had no earthly business being out in the desert. In old jeans and a pale blue shirt, he looked more like a penniless drifter than the divine being he really was.

 _What the...?_

Heaving the shirt off as if it had burned him, the fabric dropping forgotten into his lap, Lucifer swayed forward in disbelief. His voice dipped dangerously low, falling down into a sing-song venomous slither of amusement. _"Well, well... Raphael."_

The harmonic melody from the radio soldiered on between them, tinkling away through the moment of charged silence, oblivious to the rising swell of tension. _'Like a bridge over troubled water...'_

Lucifer scrutinised him with a raw intensity, his fierce gaze one that his brother struggled to return, but then confrontation was never Raphael's strongest suit.

His brother had always been a quiet one, content to work from the sidelines, not a natural warrior like some of their siblings. He shone most in the moments after battle, flying on swift tawny wings that were as speckled and pale as a barn owl, tending the wounded with a deep and heartfelt compassion.

 _'I will lay me down...'_ The hollow meaningless words of comfort were immensely irritating.

Lucifer stretched a hand out to snap the stereo off into silence, a swift impatient slap at the controls. He noticed this brothers brief cringe and frown of disappointment as he did so.

A relaxed and kind soul, under any normal circumstance Lucifer would not regard him as any particular threat, but this whole fiasco had stripped his patience and trust down to the bone. He eyed his brother warily, weighing his options. He could tip his brother out of the cab, driving off alone. It was certainly tempting, already he could picture the slew of tyres, the kick of dust, the yelp of surprise as he tumbled his brother right through the door and screeched off into the night without him.

 _But what was this? Had Raphael been sent? Was this just another move in dear old Dads game? Was this a rescue or a fresh taunt?_

Raphael looked as transfixed as a wide-eyed doe in headlights, knuckles tight around the wheel. He appeared momentarily frozen, breath caught in his throat, not knowing what Lucifer might do next. His tempestuous younger brother had always been a mystery to him. So frustratingly wilful and fractious. He berated himself under that piercing black gaze. It was his own fault, he hadn't reached out in so many years, but then what was there to say to he who fell? Where did you start? Lucifer could potentially do anything. He couldn't deny the vain hope that his brother would have just slept through the entire journey. _No, that would have been too damn easy huh?_

One thought struck home hardest of all... _Was this a phenomenally bad idea?_

Raphael blinked slowly, taking a steadying breath... no... this was where he needed to be, he was sure.

Lucifer paused, an ominous tilt to his head, before smiling ever so slowly, enjoying his brother's obvious distress. Raphael tried not to shrink back from the glint of teeth in that broad grin. The half-lit cab suddenly feeling far too small to contain the both of them.

With the languid arch of one dark eyebrow, Lucifer relented at last, simply murmuring a low "long time no see..."

.

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Raphael splayed his hands wide, driving with only his thumbs looped loosely around the wheel, careful to make no sudden moves. It was an overtly peaceful gesture, a white flag, already his foot was lifting from the gas pedal and the pick-up slowing gradually in response. "I..." He gritted his teeth at the shake in his tone and tried again, clearing his throat " I can stop if you want me to?" His voice had a soft lilt, a lyrical Celtic rhythm that hadn't changed in millennia.

Lucifer glanced out across the barren dark landscape beyond the windscreen, appalled at the prospect of his escape being sabotaged or delayed. "No, it's fine."

He leant back with an exasperated mutter "Just..." gesturing to the horizon "keep bloody going whatever you do."

The pick-up engine revved back to life as Raphael's fingers curled slowly around the wheel once more. The tyres kicking a plume of dust out behind the truck at the acceleration.

Uneasy silence stretched between them as Lucifer warily stared and Raphael drove on.

"Aye well..." Raphael floundered to fill the void "you look awful man, here..." he scrambled a hand over the dashboard, grabbing up a plastic bottle that had been gently rolling around. He cradled it for a moment, glancing briefly down before holding it tentatively out across the cab.

Lucifer peered at the dented plastic bottle, watching how the clear liquid sloshed around. Was that a tremble in Raphael's arm or a bounce from the rough track outside?

He tilted his head to one side with a low huff of disappointment as he finally accepted the offering "I suppose you've got nothing stronger on you?"

 _Oh, how he would kill for a scotch..._

Raphael glanced over, shrugging a small apology, did his brother honestly expect anything else?

Lucifer grumbled as he lifted the bottle to his lips to take a long gulp. Whatever tepid chemical laced water had been promised by the awful label, under Raphael's touch it now tasted as fresh as a wild mountain spring. So startlingly pure it could have danced down a misty rock face straight into the bottle. He breathed a deep gasp of pleasure at how blissfully good it tasted, curling his hand around the bottle possessively, he clutched it close to his chest, his intent clear... _Mine now._

He flicked a glance out to the desert, then down to the bottle, "If this is your idea of temptation brother" Lucifer sighed, pulling the old shirt around himself again like a blanket, settling into the idea of a chauffeured escape "you've got a lot to learn."

It really was a _very_ comfortable fabric, he felt strangely loathe to let it go.

Raphael glanced over, the ghost of a wary smile on his lips. "Right, because your resistance to temptation is so famous. You invented it brother, how could I ever hope to improve on your work?"

Lucifer took another drag on the delicious water, making a show of thinking it over. "Got any smokes?"

His brother flashed him a look that expressed the most definitive no.

Lucifer wound the passenger window partway down, tilting his head into the breeze that rifled through his hair. "Why haven't we got anywhere yet?" He was eyeing the scenery through the dusty glass with a faint frown.

"Give me a _chance_ brother."

"Look, it'd be quicker if I bloody walked. Doesn't this thing go any faster?" The desert was rumbling by far too slowly for his comfort.

Raphael smiled unseen at how his powerful and unpredictable brother sounded little more than a petulant child. He kept his eyes on the dawn horizon, trying to pick a route out of the purgatory.

 _Was Lucifer really ready to leave though? Was this the right thing to do?_

His youngest brother had been the fairest of the angels, named the Morningstar for good reason, his wings a breathtaking gift to behold. At the height of his power the Host had been quite in awe of him, and Raphael, in his way, had always admired the smooth eloquence of his sharp mind and persuasive nature, even when the barbs and jokes were aimed at him. He could have been the finest angel, but he always had to push things too damn far.

It seemed such a waste of potential if the fall had all been for nothing. If no lessons had been learned. _If there was no hope for him._

He frowned to himself, steering the pick-up truck onto a thin dirt track that threaded before them. Eventually it might just lead onto a broader road. It was a sign of progress at least. _A sign that his presence was welcome and helping surely?_ These things had to interpreted and considered, Raphael just had to trust his instinct.

Silence settled heavily between them, Lucifer watching the dirt track with a hungry intensity and Raphael running in mental circles of doubt and determination.

Lucifer eventually stirred, studying his brothers profile with a sidelong look. "Did he send you?" The question was quiet, thoughtful.

He narrowed his eyes, watching as Raphael hesitated, the pause a beat too long to bear, the moment of silence saying far too much.

"Tell me the truth" His tone sharpened as suspicion bubbled up in response to that pause. He leant into the last word, turning to fully face his brother, eyes hardening as he flexed a little of his gift to force any hidden secrets out.

Raphael spread his hands wide, mentally back-pedalling and trying to tread carefully, he shook his head firmly.

"No brother, _not directly_... He didn't ask me. I'm here because I thought I... that I needed to be here... for you..." Raphael stumbled a little over the words "but... I can understand why you were left out here."

Lucifer settled back against the door of the cab, cocking a brow "Oh really?" His shoulder propped against the creaking springs of the passenger seat. "Well do go on then..."

"If..." Raphael began "if He were to reward you..."

"I can think of plenty other ways to be thanked." Lucifer snapped, incredulous. "Box of bloody chocolates would have done just fine."

Raphael shook his head, glancing between the dirt track ahead and his scowling brother as he continued to drive. He needed to emphasise this point, sidestepping his brothers infamous temper before it flared out of control. "If he were to reward you somehow, choosing a gift from His perspective, not yours..."

Lucifer huffed, folding his arms, but at least he was listening.

"You did a good thing... an _amazing_ thing." Raphael flashed him a brief proud smile. "Brother, you averted a whole war."

The truck continued to creak and bounce as he carefully spoke, the dawn growing faintly brighter on the horizon. "Have you thought that it was a thank you? Perhaps this is an olive branch, an opportunity. Your reward... your wings... they could be your way back into heaven" Raphael shrugged, flicking him a curious look "or back into hell, whichever way you wanted to use them?

"By restoring the balance... maybe" Raphael gave him a lingering thoughtful look. "Do you think maybe you might have also restored yourself?"

Lucifer ran his fingers distractedly over the soft fabric of the makeshift blanket, looking away. He had already come to this conclusion, long ago when he had first awoken confused and bloody out here in the middle of nowhere.

The most obvious answer was that this was all a misguided stab at restoration and gratitude, an unwelcome pat on the back. The prize for averting a war in heaven. What else could it really have been?

But still... even if it were, it had not been Lucifer's own choice, and _that_ fact was the problem.

Choice. It was always the issue, the bone of contention between them.

Lucifer looked down, studying the shirt draped over his body. "Were you there?"

"There?" Raphael peered over.

"When I _received the reward_ " Lucifer's voice was laced with a chasm of sarcasm as deep as hell itself.

"Yes... Yes I was." Raphael nodded slowly, voice softening. "I couldn't believe it... But I was glad."

"Oh really?" It came out as more of a growl. It was a bitter thought, being helpless, of being worked upon then cast out all over again. Lucifer tensed, picturing it, his family gathered around him, talking about him, _planning a scenario that he had no power in._

Raphael frowned in concern, seeing his brother's mood dive dangerously again. "You did good... You did a monumental good." He thumped the steering wheel lightly with one fist to emphasise the point. "Why would He not try to reverse what you had done to yourself? To give you at least the option... a... a chance to return to heaven someday?"

"I mean..." Raphael shook his head at the unthinkable "you cut your own wings off."

"It was _my_ decision." Lucifer snarled defensively.

"Aye, and it was a wrong one!" Raphael snapped back. A rare spark of fire in those pale green eyes.

Raphael sighed, instantly apologetic, gaze skittering away. "I'm not here to fight you." His fingers flexed wide again around the wheel, a peaceful gesture. "It's not part of His plan."

Lucifer scoffed "and what exactly is His plan?"

Raphael shrugged slightly as he loosely held the wheel. "Ineff-..."

"Oh now, don't you dare..." Lucifer snapped. He snorted, cutting his brother off before he could finish the loathed word. _Ineffable. Impossible to express in words._ The biggest excuse his father ever gave for sidestepping his own responsibility.

"Well that's just bullshit and you know it." Lucifer was truly angry, a faint edge of incandescent red blistering along the edge of each iris. "Not at all vague brother, thank you _so_ much for your uncanny insight..."

Raphael kept his voice purposefully low, soothing, speaking calmly even though he felt like cringing away from those sulphurous eyes. "Maybe the words that come to my mind... are appearing for a reason... they are meant to be said, and you are meant to hear them. Even if you just consider them briefly before casting them aside."

"We used to talk so often..." Raphael frowned in wistful regret "back... before... we used to."

He shook his head, forging ahead, knowing to stick to complete honesty as his brother had a gift for detecting any deceit. He risked holding the gaze of those frighteningly intense eyes "I believe you were meant to fall, and to rise again, I believe this all has a purpose." His shoulders rose with the hint of a shrug "Maybe he needed someone he could trust to run Hell?"

Lucifer scowled, "Wonderful job interview process that was..."

"What did you expect? You were leading a revolt!" Raphael allowed a brief moment of exasperation "It was your own hubris that ensured your fall. You were forcing his hand, you knew something would happen eventually, you _must_ have known, but you damn well carried on regardless" His face fell at the memory, how he had watched on in horror, still feeling the sting of regret that he had been unable to somehow stop the carnage inflicted that terrible day.

His own brother had suffered so horrendously, impossibly beyond his reach, but not out of sight, and Raphael had wept when he'd eventually had to turn away. Healing is what he excelled in and yet he could do nothing to help. He had never felt so utterly powerless to intervene.

Lucifer looked away, the fire in his eye fading, a little surprised at how his brother frowned and fell to thoughtful silence. Had he somehow scarred Raphael along the way during his battle with their father?

Raphael gritted his teeth, staring ahead, pulling himself together. "I _believe_ in the ineffable plan brother."

"Oh grow a pair" Lucifer muttered it as a low grumble.

"No, I have faith." It was said simply, without a shred of embarrassment, heartfelt and genuine.

Lucifer gestured broadly with a resigned flick of a hand "so where's the line huh? Where does dear old Dad stop or do you believe every single thing is preordained?" He re-crossed his arms over his chest defensively against the ancient argument "If everything is scripted out already, what's the damn point?"

He felt trapped, nettled, horribly constrained whatever he did. He'd cut those magnificent wings off to escape the plan. To choose his own path. But they were bloody well back again, feeling little more than a chain round his ankle.

Lucifer arched a brow "If we follow your line of 'faith' then I was created already _with_ this desire for independence. Do you not think that a little cruel?"

Raphael shook his head, feeling the conversation turn against him. Lucifer would always do this, twist a debate around until it served his own purpose.

"Freedom to burn" his brother pressed on "is no kind of freedom at all."

"No, that's not what I..."

"It's all bollocks quite frankly..." Lucifer sighed, tilting his head to one side, lips pressing into a thin line of frustration."He even had a hand in creating Chloe."

Raphael risked a glance over as Lucifer scowled.

"Can he let me have nothing?..." The words were little more than a whisper but they were laced with an immense bitterness. Lucifer's frustration seared once more, eyes flaring a crimson red, his presence looming suddenly in the small pick-up cab. "His fingerprints are all over her" his voice rose "don't you understand?"

Raphael stared at the sudden raw outburst. This was a weakness in his brother that he hadn't seen before. "Your mortal, she doesn't know the truth of any of this though... does she?" He gestured to Lucifer's back.

"Why does he have to get involved?" Lucifer's scowl withered into a miserable frown.

"You're his son." Raphael shrugged simply.

"Yeah? _That_ lost its meaning a long time ago. Around the time he threw me out first time, remember?" Lucifer muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like _bloody helicopter parenting._

Raphael merely winced, a flicker of that regret surfacing again as he mumbled a low "yes, I do remember..."

"What does he want?..." Lucifer sounded so very weary, looking over to his brother for some kind of answer.

"What do _you_ want?" Raphael fired back gently.

Lucifer couldn't answer, his thoughts circling back around to the detective and how he was inexorably drawn to her, even though she had been preordained, even though he knew he shouldn't.

 _Temptation, he could never bloody resist it._ What was more tempting than something utterly unique? A being he had no influence over whatsoever?

This feeling, the inexorable pull... it was unfair, simply horrendous, he had never experienced the like before.

The long silence gave Raphael a knot of worry, his brow crinkling as he glanced across the cab. He had to know so he gently asked again. "What are you going to do?"

He needed to know that he was doing the right thing returning Lucifer to civilisation.

Lucifer sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "I don't know... I'm just... I'm... tired of being a pawn."

.

.

.

A heavy silence fell between them, only the rumble of tyres on tarmac resounded as the dirt track joined a long straight road. The going was smoother now, the scenery rolling by more swiftly as dawn crept out across the sky.

"I... I mourned Uriel..." Raphael's quiet comment was almost lost against the background noise.

"So did I..." Lucifer seemed to hunker down beneath the old shirt. A bucket of icy cold guilt washing over his thoughts of the detective. He was unaccustomed to shame and guilt, how did mortals ever endure this kind of raw wound? It felt as thought it would never stop bleeding at his core.

He fell quiet, having to turn his face away to watch the sky brightening outside. The memory of Uriel's face, at the end, was too vivid. It flashed unwelcome into his thoughts. _Those familiar eyes so wide and his own palm so red._

Raphael glanced over to the slumped form of his brother. Wanting to ask if Uriel had suffered, but not sure if he wanted the answer. Not sure if Lucifer would be able to face the question, he looked wretched. He mentally kicked himself for bringing it up. For their father to have returned the wings was an enormous display of forgiveness, a tremendous sign of faith in his son. Surely that meant something?

Surely it meant that the death of Uriel had been weighed, considered carefully and forgiven?

He spread his hands wide around the steering wheel, floundering for something to say, eventually he gestured to the gradually brightening desert beyond their small cab.

"I think..." Raphael spoke hesitantly. "I think you were delivered out here for a reason. Have you thought what you might have done if you had woken up in your club, with them grown back?"

He took his eyes from the long straight road ahead to watch his brother response to the idea. "How would you have reacted surrounded by your mortal friends?"

Lucifer frowned, remembering the Joshua tree he had destroyed so easily, how it had whirled through the air before shattering hard into the ground. He had been insensible of what he was doing, overtaken by that boiling red haze of realisation, the utter shock at what had happened.

Raphael tilted his head "maybe the idea was to set you down somewhere quiet. Let you come to terms with the situation in your own space?"

Lucifer simply scowled.

"Some... eh... time to cool your heels maybe, as it were?" Raphael nodded to himself, sure of the idea "think about it, if he had set you down back in your new home, would that tower of brick and stone have withstood your anger when you awoke?"

"No... I suppose not..." He could picture himself tearing Lux apart and shivered at the scene playing out in his mind.

"Aye, well... You do something like that, to Samael himself, you make sure no one else is around when he wakes up."

"No one calls me that anymore"... Lucifer grumbled under his breath, leaning forward briefly to flip the radio back on. The tinny strains of piano and harmonic voices once more filling the cabin with a little touch of tranquillity

 _"Hello darkness my old friend"_

He cast an accusing sidelong glance to his brother, of course it would be more bloody Simon & Garfunkel.

Raphael shrugged with a smirk of amusement. He nodded pointedly ahead and Lucifer followed his gaze.

Out there on the horizon, civilisation. The very edge of the city he had called his own for the last few years, it gave Lucifer an electric thrill right in his gut just to see the familiar skyline.

A flutter of _something_ sparked into life deep in his chest.

All else was forgotten.

He was nearly home.

.

.

.

* * *

 _A/N: Two songs were referenced here, both Simon & Garfunkel 'Sound of Silence' and 'Bridge over troubled water'._

 _We're over half way now with this story, there should be 14 chapters in all by what I have planned :) If I can finish a multi-chapter piece I'll be really pleased!_

 _Needless to say, this is wandering AU from series 3 as it is on TV :)_

 _Thank you for the support and apologies for the delay on this chapter. I've had a spot of hospital stuff and notice of redundancy at Christmas, so ho hum, but it'll all work out in the end ;)_


	9. Chapter 9

Lucifer tilted his head against the passenger window like an eager tourist, drinking in the glorious sight of pedestrians, palm trees, vibrant glass fronted shops and coffee bars. There were so many people here, all wrapped up in their own daily life, completely oblivious to the divine beings trundling through their midst in a dusty old pick-up truck.

The blistering mid-morning sun bounced across the distant skyscrapers. Monuments of molten gold and warm stone. He _liked_ these citadels, so sharp, brilliant and modern. It was one of the reasons he had chosen the lofty perch of Lux as his home. Each high tower was a temple to money, luxury or clever invention. A shrine to independence and free will. They rose up defiantly against the startlingly blue sky, barely a cloud in sight overhead.

The slow pace of traffic was a direct contrast to the anticipation thrumming from Lucifer.

Raphael patiently let yet another car out in front of them at a junction.

"Bloody hell" Lucifer sighed. "You know... you could just let me drive?"

Raphael chuckled and shook his head "No chance pal..." he drifted a hand over to protectively pat the dashboard like a beloved pet.

Lucifer huffed as he leant forward, easing himself slowly into the borrowed shirt, ignoring the buttons to let the soft fabric hang loose and comfortable around his aching shoulders.

"Well at least take the next left." he muttered, pointing with a jab of his finger, "just a tad faster that way". He draped his other arm carelessly out of the open passenger window, drumming his fingertips in a light staccato rhythm against the door.

Raphael glanced over as they waited at a red light. "What are you going to do first?" This was the most energetic he had seen his brother. On the long drive here, as they watched the city hove into view, Lucifer had wound up tighter and tighter and he was starting to wonder whether he might potentially snap.

Lucifer frowned in thought. "Have a shower?" He wrinkled his nose, looking down at the state of himself.

"No... actually, I'll have a bloody drink." he nodded firmly, glaring at the traffic ahead, wishing it would just scatter for once at their approach. He _could_ make that happen, but he'd probably never hear the end of it.

"And then?" Raphael arched a pale brow.

"Then..." Lucifer's mood seemed to falter slightly as he hesitated, his voice softening, "...then I have some catching up to do."

Raphael peered at him warily, "You're not tempted to show off a few feathers are you?

"Course not" Lucifer frowned, his response a reflex snap of scorn, but in reality the temptation was playing on his mind. He _had_ been on his way over to see Chloe, to tell her everything, when this all started.

It was a fundamental rule that the divine should never reveal their true nature, mortals just couldn't cope with it. Best that they fly, literally, under the radar wherever possible. But Lucifer indulged, of course he did. A little flash of 'devil face' here and there helped bring the worst kinds of criminal to heel, it helped the detective and it had a unique entertainment value, a lovely kind of win-win.

Lucifer frowned in thought. To actually sit down and tell someone though? That was always a very risky roll of the dice.

He couldn't help but be reminded of Linda's blank horror, that utter silence. She had pushed and pushed for the truth and it had almost ended in disaster when he finally capitulated and revealed his true face.

It was the fluttering tremble of her bottom lip that stuck most sharply in his memory, much more so than her halted stare, her mind had simply shut down at the immensity of the revelation. She was a mortal who shepherded others, using compassion to navigate them through times of great difficulty. Her life was dedicated to understanding and therapy and he'd nearly broken that robust intelligence apart completely.

True, she had recovered, but it was a close run thing.

He could tell that Raphael meant well, the way his brow crinkled, the way those green eyes kept darting in his direction, worry edging each carefully chosen word.

He'd finally decided to bloody go for it, to actually share the truth with Chloe, when he'd been ripped out of the situation and flung far away out into the desert. Was it a not-so-subtle warning to reconsider the decision? A direct intervention to stop the conversation before it could even begin?

Lucifer distractedly watched the familiar streets crawl by as he considered the idea.

It could have just been bad timing?

"It would be best to keep them hidden." Raphael pushed on."In the long term, what would you gain from it?" he hesitated thinking back to that unusual outburst earlier, his protective instinct overflowing not just for his brother, but for the mortals who shared his company too. "...What would she?"

"Yes, I know!" Lucifer huffed impatiently, shaking head with a sigh, more of his previous energy evaporating away with it.

He knew Raphael was speaking from a place of concern, but still he didn't want to hear it. He'd always been so damn meticulous, never lying to her about his true nature, but that wasn't the same as the incredible risk of laying out the full truth. His resolve cracked and wavered as he imagined that same terrified tremor on Chloe's lips.

"Giving proof of the divine", his brother intoned slowly "is incredibly dangerous. You know it never ends well for anyone?"

"I know... I know" Lucifer sighed a soft low breath.

 _Chloe... staring blankly at a wall, broken down and reduced to silence. Her spawn crying and clawing at her for a response._

He did not want to see the good detective fall apart, not by his hand, not like that.

 _Better not to... safer not to..._

Back to square one it was then.

Mentally he cast about for a solution, a back-up plan, how was he going to begin to explain his absence without some form of lie? He glanced away in resignation, out of the open window, leaning back against the old seat as the traffic started moving again.

He'd come up with something, he always did.

For now what he really wanted was to just go back to how things were. To forget the whole damn debacle and slide neatly back into the life he had been living. To get himself a shower, a shave, a suit and some scotch. Perhaps not in that order but certainly his immediate future included all of the above, sooner the better.

He perked up instantly at a brief impression of Lux in the distance. Just there, flashing between two high buildings, was a glimpse of his home.

His heart thudded inside his chest, a lurch of happiness.

 _Home._

"Will you be coming up?" Lucifer dragged his eyes away from the welcome sight of the tall building.

Raphael frowned nervously, steering them ever closer toward the rapidly approaching pale tower. "Do you still consort with a demon?"

"What... Mazikeen?" Lucifer chuckled dismissively. "You're not frightened of her... are you?" He turned slightly to peer at his brothers deepening frown. "Oh, but you _are_ though aren't you."

Raphael seemed determined to ignore the taunt as Lucifer slowly grinned. "Amenadiel always gets on _rather_ well with her..."

He laced the words with just enough suggestive innuendo that his brother was able to connect the dots. The car braked a little too hard as they approached the next junction. "He does?" Raphael stuttered.

Lucifer just nodded slowly, some of that old twinkle of delight returning to his dark eyes.

Raphael muttered a low scandalised "no!" in horror, unable to believe such a rumour about Amenadiel. That he, the strongest of the archangels, would fall in such a sordid way. He looked again at Lucifer, wondering just how dangerous it was to be in his sphere of influence.

"Relax brother, by your rationale, even _that_ was meant to happen." Lucifer smirked at his brothers appalled expression, turning his attention back toward the approach of Lux.

Raphael glanced up for a moment, seeking patience, taking a slow breath to steady his nerves. If this conversation was amusing or calming for his brother, offering him a some clarity after his ordeal, well then... he could bear it.

.

.

.

They pulled up in the shaded alley behind Lux, the rumbling engine finally dying down into silence, Raphael hopped lightly from the cab and Lucifer followed, tumbling out, shuffling his way slowly around the truck to stand beside him.

The brothers stood awkwardly, just a couple of feet apart. "This is where I leave you" Raphael eventually smiled. He turned slightly to study his brothers profile. "Will you... will you be alright?"

Lucifer shrugged off the concern "of course" he tugged at the sleeve of the old shirt without thinking. His hand habitually reaching for cuff-links that weren't there.

"I'll see you around eh?" Raphael had done what he could, he'd been a true brother, offering a balm, someone to talk to, someone to ride by his side on the long road out of the desert. He'd lain out an alternative perspective for Lucifer's consideration and an olive branch from the family.

The ineffable plan always worked out as intended, Raphael had absolute faith in that. All he could do was leave the breadcrumbs for his brother, it was up to Lucifer to actually follow them or not.

One step toward the light, that was all he wanted his fallen brother to take.

Lucifer arched a brow and smiled, "not if I see you first" but then had the grace to wince at his own harsh words. "I... won't forget what you've done for me". His dark eyes filled with an intense sincerity, a gaze that Raphael couldn't return easily, as awkward with gratitude as he was with confrontation.

"I..." adequate words seem to escape Lucifer's silver tongue, so he simply reached out to lay a hand on his brothers shoulder "Thank you..."

Raphael looked up at that, peering through the few strands of his shaggy auburn hair that had cascaded over his eyes. He returned the gesture so that the brothers mirrored each other. "Aye well... think on what I've said eh?"

He gave Lucifer's shoulder a gentle squeeze and smirked, the touch subtly soothing. "Now go take a shower, you look like crap."

Lucifer chuckled, it was true enough.

As Raphael turned the old engine over once more, he flipped the stereo back on, offering Lucifer a lazy salute through the open window.

A pair of harmonic voices echoed back and forth across the alley, with a blast of '...sail on silver bird' the truck hauled around. Lucifer stood for a long time, watching the old pick-up merge and vanish into the midday traffic.

Lucifer shook his head at the state of himself, standing around like some awful dazed tramp. Punching in the security code to the service lift, he smiled, he was finally home.

.

.

.

The first thing to catch his eye was the smashed piano. He paused by the old carcass of polished wood and wire, nudging one of the slender keys with a bare dusty toe.

"Oh this'll have to go" he murmured mournfully.

Shuffling over to the bar, Lucifer had just closed his hand around a much anticipated bottle of scotch when he heard it.

He looked up at the rustling sound of someone else moving around in the apartment. "Little welcome home party it it?" he peered around smiling, clutching the bottle close, unwilling to let it go.

Mazikeen strode from the bathroom, giving him a stunned once over. Her gaze lingering on his filthy bare feet and crappy shirt.

Lucifer beamed a wide grin of delight, "Mazey! What are you doing?"

Her stern expression didn't even flicker."I was looking for clues."

"What in _there?_ " he snorted in amusement.

"I was being thorough..." she tilted her head, unsmiling, not wanting to be distracted "what happened to you?"

"Did you miss me?" his eyebrow twitched up playfully.

It was entirely the wrong thing to say, Mazikeen stalked slowly across the penthouse, her eyes narrowing. "Where have you been all this time?"

Lucifer tilted his head to one side, still grinning at the joy seeing her again. "How long was it?"

"How can you not know?" she shot back, exasperated.

Lucifer visibly stalled, brow furrowing, his smile slowly fading.

"You really _don't_ know do you?" Mazikeen studied his reaction with a hard look. "How could you take off like that?" She jabbed an accusing finger at him.

"Hey... I didn't..."

"How could you _do_ that to Decker?" She snarled furiously, advancing even closer, getting up close to glare at him.

Lucifer threw a hand up, actually taking a few steps back. "Not now Maze..." he whined defensively.

"Do you have any idea what-."

"It wasn't like th-"

"So what was it then?"

"Just **stop!**..." His eyes flashed a brilliant angry red. There was an almighty 'fwoomph' behind him, the pale wings unfurling to flex wide in warning. They dominated the apartment with their subtle glow, stopping the argument dead.

Mazikeen stumbled back, eyes wide, gasping in shock. Her voice, when she found it, was hushed and breathless, "what... what does this mean?..."

Lucifer shrugged, the wings bobbing gently up and down in response. "I..." he shook his head "...don't know"

He simply looked down at the bottle in his hand, grimacing as the wings drooped low. Heading back toward the bar he poured out a generous glass, barely pausing before downing it in one with a low hiss of pleasure.

His gaze fixed on the empty glass for a long time, a thoughtful lost look before he eventually glanced up at her.

"Darling" He flashed her his brightest and most hopeful of sly smiles, his voice a low purr, "have you still got those blades?"

.

.

.

* * *

A/N: The song reference there was 'Bridge over troubled water' by Simon & Garfunkel. (Raphael does love them a bit yep).


	10. Chapter 10

The office chair creaked in protest as Chloe eased it back.

She stretched out with a massive yawn, features scrunching up at the blissful pop and grind of sore joints and weary muscles.

The old bullet wound was aching again, it was a dull but bearable ghost of pain that she tried to soothe with an idle rub along her collar bone, her fingertips massaged in little circles along the shoulder to work some of the tangled knots loose.

With a soft sigh she eventually tipped back toward her desk, flicking through the arrest file one last time to double check it was all signed off and complete.

She'd hardly slept, the final arrest taking place in the small hours before dawn, but it had been worth it. The arrest had been smooth, the culmination of weeks of investigation, a job well done by all involved.

Hard work, that's what had closed the case, not some unpredictable advisor, lucky tangent or strange confession of private desires. They hadn't needed it, not for this case, they'd managed just fine.

 _...Just fine._

Chloe looked up as a long shadow fell across her desk.

"Hot, soy latte, extra foam, just as you like it." Dan grinned, carefully handing over the tall steaming cup. "Nice work on the Farley case, that was quite the flying tackle at the end there."

She closed the file, huffing a low chuckle of amusement. "Well, maybe he shouldn't have tried to run?" She shrugged, feeling a couple of fresh bruises wave for attention as she did so. Cradling her drink she gave Dan a grateful nod of thanks. "Ella was suggesting grabbing a bite" she arched a brow, peering up at him, "a closed case celebration if you fancy joining us?"

"Sure thing, just tell me when." He perched on the edge of the desk in companionable silence, taking a sip of his own aromatic coffee. He seemed to sink toward the paper cup, just as weary as she was.

Although their marriage had fallen apart long ago, their lives were still very much entwined. Caring for Trixie, working together at the precinct, they made a good team. Their relationship had evolved over time into a solid and supportive friendship.

They knew each other well enough to see when the other was struggling with something, even when nothing was outwardly said. As much as Chloe had been going through a rough time, Dan had also been battling his own demons. He didn't speak much about his situation with Charlotte Richards, whatever it was, but Chloe knew he had been burned badly by how it suddenly ended.

It was good to see him smile, for a while there it had been a rare thing.

Her phone buzzed and she reached out idly to flip it over.

 _Decker, get over to Lux._

Chloe froze, staring blankly at the phone, her brow crinkling with a sudden frown. Maze was a bare minimalist when it came to messages, but those five words spoke plenty.

Before she could even react the phone buzzed again with a follow-up.

 _Like now..._

It could mean only one thing.

"Hey, everything okay?" Dan frowned anxiously at her halted expression, "is it Trixie?"

Chloe just vaguely shook her head, tilting the phone around so he could read the messages for himself. His relief visibly evaporated, mouth flattening down into a tight pale line as he bit back the first few responses leaping through his mind.

She felt as though her heart had lurched down into her gut and then bounced back up into her throat. A sick swoop of nervous energy coursed through her as she tapped in a short message of her own.

 _What is it? Are you okay?_

She'd hardly finished typing when another response flashed up.

 _Just come..._

He was back. He had to be. Something... some new development had kicked off, what else could it be? She stared at the phone, heart thudding, At least it would be an end to the damn mystery.

"I have to go..." Chloe rose, throwing on her coat and snatching up her keys with a quietly determined huff.

Dan propped his forgotten coffee on the desk, rising to stand as well, hoping she would pause and maybe reconsider, just for a moment. "Do you want me to come with you?" There was nothing but concern in his tone.

He'd witnessed some of the quiet moments when Chloe's smile faltered, when she seemed distracted, and he knew the reason. If that man was toying with her, oblivious to the impact of his actions, just to inevitably put her through all of this again and again. He couldn't stand it. Chloe deserved better than that.

"No... no..." She shook her head, uncertain what she was feeling. A mixture of anger and dread jangled about in her chest, "thank you though."

"Just be careful... _please_? Don't let him pull anything on you alright?" Dan rested a hand on her shoulder, painfully worried. They'd spent so long in each others lives he couldn't help but feel protective. "If he's dicking around again..." he growled, the threat hanging in the air unspoken.

"I know, I know..." Chloe nodded, her voice softening, knowing exactly what he meant.

She shouldn't go, not after all this time, six weeks of absolutely nothing directly after a promise of _everything_. Her pride was stinging at the thought of running straight over there, but then she couldn't just ignore Mazikeen's plea, anything might be happening, Lucifer could be in real trouble for all she knew.

"I have to go..."

.

.

.

The drive over flashed by in a haze, her thoughts spinning through all the potential scenarios she could think of, still uncertain as to what the hell she would be walking in on. Her gaze had drifted back to the phone at every red light, but there had been nothing, no buzz, no light... no indication of a fresh message.

No explanation, just that enigmatic request: _get over to Lux._

Abandoning her car in the alley she gazed up at the familiar building. It felt strange to be back at Lux, she had carefully avoided the place for weeks now. Ever since all that worry, all that desperate hunting for information, had yielded nothing.

As the lift ascended slowly toward the penthouse Chloe could just about make out the muffled sound of raised voices. She felt the weight of her gun heavy and reassuring in the holster, one hand drifted to rest on it... just in case. _Was it a fight, was Maze in danger?_

There was an indistinct murmur of a male voice...

 _And then..._

 _"You think I'm-..."_ The lift rumbled as it slowed, obscuring some of the words _"-do that again?"_ It was definitely Mazikeen, her distinctive voice angered and raw, a shout that confirmed a stand-off in progress.

Chloe braced herself, taking a deep steadying breath.

 _"You-..."_ The doors slid gracefully apart, spilling a warm golden glow into the subdued lighting of the penthouse. Mazikeen snapped her attention around, leaving the snarled sentence unfinished. She stalked straight over, partially blocking Chloe's view.

Mazikeen's eyes were too bright, her breath fast as if she had been running, her whole frame charged with emotion. Chloe had never seen her flatmate like this, normally she was so utterly composed. Meanwhile the penthouse seemed to dim noticeably in the background, a light somewhere turned down to leave the room feeling somehow diminished for the loss of it.

Her friend definitely wasn't alone.

"Are you alright?" Chloe asked in a hushed breath.

Maze simply nodded before stepping aside, turning back to face whoever she had been shouting at.

 _Lucifer._

There he was, just stood there quite whole and alive. Chloe gasped at the state of him as she stepped at last out into the penthouse.

He looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, then taken for a roll through a few sandpits for good measure. Propped behind the bar, bottle of dark scotch held loose in one hand, empty glass clutched in the other. Covered in dust and dirt, dressed in an old shirt, more grizzled and unkempt than she had ever seen him before, but it was most definitely Lucifer Morningstar himself.

The smile he flashed at her was the same old delighted grin that he ever wore in her company.

The coil of anger in Chloe's chest tightened even further in response.

.

.

.

"I promised I would tell Chloe if there was a development..." Mazikeen paced distractedly, waving an arm around, " _this_ is a development!" There wasn't just anger in her tone, there was something else. Maze sounded upset, _distressed_ even.

Chloe snapped, exasperated. "What are you talking about? What _exactly_ is going on here?"

She caught the look that flashed between Lucifer and Maze. A warning glare from him, with a defiant stare from her in response. Something was being said between them, they were silently dancing around some key truth, something... or someone... _oh god was it a someone?_

A cold feeling plummeted through the core of her being, she didn't have time for these games.

Chloe darted a glance around the penthouse, half expecting to see a pair of high glittery stilettos cast aside. Some evidence of Candy Morningstar back on the scene.

 _Is that what had happened?_

"If you think I'm going to get rid of them for you..." Maze continued, "I just... can't." Maze shook her head again, turning to leave, her words sounding more like a quiet plea, "not this time." She flashed an apologetic look to Chloe, tilting her head.

The apologetic look irked Chloe, what kind of a friend would dump her into a situation unarmed with any of the facts? _Get rid of what?_ She glanced around again. _Get rid of who?_

Maze reached out to lay a hand on her arm, seemingly desperate to convey something, but unable to say exactly what it was. "I can't explain it Chloe" she dropped her voice down low, "you have to talk to him yourself about all this".

 _All what?_

In the end Maze shook her head in frustration, punching at the elevator controls, the golden light washing into the penthouse once more as the doors slid apart. As she stepped inside she simply murmured, her tone matter-of-fact, "You two... I think you need to talk."

Chloe was exasperated, if this was another Candy situation then she really didn't want to be here either. She couldn't understand why Mazikeen, her flatmate, her friend, would call her over for this confrontation... if that's even what this was?

There was a clink of motion from the bar, Lucifer was pouring out another overly generous glass for himself. He arched a brow at her, an unspoken question whether she wanted a drink too.

She simply folded her arms in response, narrowing her eyes.

The moment of silence that hung between them was absolute.


	11. Chapter 11

He poured a second glass anyway, nudging it across the bar in her direction.

The crystal tumbler was a peace token, a lonely emissary sent forth into the no-man's land that lay between them. However hopeful the gesture, it remained untouched.

Chloe kept her distance, making no move toward the halo of light that spilled from the wall behind the bar. With her arms lightly folded she remained as she was, steadfast at the centre of the room, watching him with a glare of silence.

"You have no idea how good it is to see you again Detective" Lucifer murmured. He offered a solemn salute, tilting his glass meaningfully in her direction, before downing it in one and flashing a wide smile. He drank with a ravenous thirst, with barely a pause for breath he tipped the bottle up again, refilling his glass back up to the brim.

The slosh of liquor and the chink of glassware were the only sounds in the softly lit penthouse.

She watched his every movement, one finger tapping lightly against her sleeve as she waited for him to say something of real value. _An explanation would be a damn good place to start..._

 _...or even an apology._

Lucifer hesitated, his attempt at a warm breezy welcome falling horribly flat. This wasn't the reunion he'd anticipated, a playful bout of sparring that would lead to an eventual grudging forgiveness. He'd played the scenario out often enough during his long tramp through the desert. Already this moment was spiralling miserably far from the script.

 _If Mazikeen had only bloody waited._

He downed the fresh glass and winced briefly, just a few more minutes warning would have been enough. As it was he'd barely had enough time to fold the wings away as the lift doors had slid apart. No wonder the ache across his back had spiked suddenly just before the elevator had arrived, he should have realised right then that she was close by.

Her proximity made him vulnerable, every little ache sharpening into focus now that she was close by. Lucifer poured a fresh glass more slowly, lowering his eyes and casting about for where to begin. The weariness was bothersome, seeping through every joint and muscle. It made him just want to sink into a chair, via the nearest bottle, but he couldn't collapse into comfort just yet.

 _Chloe should never have seen him like this..._

If she hadn't been summoned so swiftly by Mazikeen, he might have managed a shower and a suit at the very least.

This wasn't the way he'd wanted to make amends with the good detective. He didn't feel ready but he hitched on a genuine smile regardless and muttered "but it _is_ so very good to see you."

It was no lie.

.

.

.

Chloe flicked an unimpressed glance over to the half empty bottle, it probably cost at least double her monthly food shop and he was knocking it back like water. Lucifer had a staggering capacity for alcohol, but he was sinking the scotch like he was on a mission to drown himself in it. He clearly had no intention of remaining sober for long, if he was even sober now? He certainly looked a state, rougher than she had ever seen him before.

 _It must have been one hell of a party._

She tilted her chin up ever so slightly, arching a brow, her tone carefully calm and controlled. "Did you literally lose your shirt in Vegas?"

He perked up as she spoke, plucking idly at the soft fabric of the shirt. "What this old thing? Just a loaner" He shrugged slowly and smiled at her, "I lost mine at some point."

Lucifer dropped his gaze in the following heavy silence. His fingers curling slowly around the glass as his mind raced.

Chloe pursed her lips. _Just a loan... huh... so he wasn't alone wherever he was..._ Her frustration burned a little brighter with each passing moment.

"So..." she began again slowly "what happened?" It was a calm flat question that hid a shoal of accusations within the depths. She was battling to keep them unsaid, to keep some precious part of her dignity intact here.

Lucifer fixed his gaze down on the drink, there was a ghost of a grimace as he pondered how best to reply. He took a long sip, playing for time, aware that he needed to say something... anything... She deserved an answer.

Words of advice echoed back to haunt him, accompanied by a flash of pale green eyes filled with concern, _"In the long term, what would you gain from it... what would she?"_ He scrabbled around mentally for a way to truthfully answer. In the end he settled on his default weapon of choice, a charming diversion and a neat sidestep around the truth... _but still always the truth._ "Well, it was an unplanned jaunt."

Chloe took a slow breath, seeking patience whilst she peered at him, her mouth tightening into a frown even further as she saw through his façade. _Why would he avoid such a simple question?_ The temptation was singing in her veins to just turn around and leave. To simply waltz back under the bright elevator lights, punch for the ground floor, swing into her car and just... go home.

To leave all this bullshit behind.

She peered at him. "You were gone" she pushed on "for quite a while there." Her fingertip tapped a slow impatient beat as she waited for a response.

Lucifer tilted his head to one side, finally returning her gaze with a crinkled brow and a smile. "You know... I'm not entirely sure how long it was, no-one has yet told me?"

"Six weeks..." Chloe fired the two quiet words like a matter-of-fact warning shot.

"Oh, is that all?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

"What do you mean _'is that all?'_ How can you not even know how long it was?" Chloe stared at him with a flare of exasperation. She couldn't help but imagine him wrecked in the bars of Vegas, his days and nights slurring into one long hedonistic blur of partying. And all that time she had been fool enough to be worried for him. A string of unwelcome images flashed through her mind, lurid, colourful and all sinfully excessive. Her voice dropped as it filled with a horrified kind of wonder "How far gone _were_ you?"

Lucifer snorted a laugh, thinking of the unconscious fall and the bloody awful endless walk. He flexed some of the sand still clinging to his bare feet, "pretty far..."

Chloe straightened her back, the dismissive laugh had stung but she was determined not to show it. _No wonder he looked so damn ragged._ She wasn't going to turn this into another lecture about overdoing the drugs, but the idea of Lucifer chasing a high and losing days on a bad trip sounded all too plausible.

Eventually she sighed, wearing her steady composure like armour. "It's fine Lucifer, It's fine..." She nodded to herself, "you know? It's okay."

He looked up sharply at the resignation in her tone.

Chloe shoved her hands deep into her pockets, curling one hand around her car keys. "I have no claim on you, nor you on me." She shrugged, her smile a little too bright. "I just honestly thought we were friends... and well... friends don't act like that."

She could feel her eyes begin to burn and god knew she had no intention of crying. With a few brisk steps forward she reached out for the spare tumbler of scotch and took a fortifying sip. His dark eyes were so much closer now though, regarding her with a look somewhere between bewilderment and fear.

Chloe took another sip, feeling the smooth liquor burn in her throat and a warmth spread down through her chest, a steadying sensation. "It's good.. that you're back here... that you're alive." She could barely look at him. "You know... I didn't even know that much? If you were even alive?"

 _God... the way he was looking at her..._

Chloe shrugged "Can you understand that I worried, that I thought..." She shook her head with an exasperated huff of breath, "but you're alright, I mean of course... you always are." Her lips twitched up in a smile but there was no amusement there, "you've more lives than a cat." She finished the drink with a quick flick back of the glass "it's enough to know that much... So... I'm out of here."

As she pushed herself away from her side of the bar, Lucifer took a hurried step to follow her. "No wait... Detective."

She peered at him, arching a single brow, daring him to actually say something meaningful.

"Please." He was regarding her with a desperate intensity.

"No..." Chloe slowly shook her head, it was hard to speak, her throat constricting with a hot wave of emotion. "You don't get to ask me to stay."

He took another step, on an intercept path between her and the elevator. They were barely a few feet apart.

She bristled, giving him a hard look.

"I really was on my way over to you" Lucifer reached out to lay a hand on her arm, but stopped short of actually touching her. "I didn't lie to you."

"So what... you were _forced_ on holiday?"

"No, it was nothing like that". Lucifer could feel the conversation slipping from him. Here at the precipice of falling out with the detective, perhaps for good, he still couldn't muster a reasonable explanation. He was still stuck on the knife edge, the risk of telling her everything, or the safety of telling her nothing at all.

"Tell me the truth."

Lucifer hesitated again and the moment of silence crept on for too long.

Chloe threw her hands up in the air. "Was it something so terrible?" She stepped back, wanting to keep some distance between them. "You've already done this before and come back with a wife, what could you possibly have done this time?"

He looked at her blankly.

"Who was it?" Chloe's heart clenched as she spoke, she honestly didn't want to know, but the acid words were being pushed out by the vast swell of hurt and frustration she felt.

"What are you talking about?" Lucifer frowned, lost.

"Well I figured it might be something like that... two weeks was how long it took you last time wasn't it?" She glanced around the penthouse again, half expecting someone to appear as if on cue. "Someone inconvenient that you now want Mazikeen to get rid of for you?"

Lucifer looked utterly bewildered, teetering on the edge of finding it hilarious, "what? I swear to Dad... I've not been doing anything like that!"

Chloe's eyes were hard as flint, _if he dare laugh_ , this was going to be his last chance.

"So, what was the argument with Mazikeen all about?" She folded her arms once more. "She had no idea where you were either, no-one did."

He was still reeling from her accusations, "I had no choice in it. But honestly it was just a detour, I'm back though and all yours now."

 _Was that all the explanation she was going to get?_

Chloe stared at him, her disbelief incandescent, as if seeing his true character for the first time.

For long moments they regarded each other, but eventually Chloe snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Lucifer huffed a bitter laugh at her choice of words...

"You think this is funny?" Chloe's eyes narrowed at the laughter, her patience ticking down to an explosive zero at last. "You seriously don't care about anyone else at all do you?"

He grimaced suddenly, "Detective, no it's..."

But the floodgates were open and all the worry, fear and dread that had built up over those long weeks of silence suddenly curdled into a fierce anger.

 _Why did she put up with this?_ The scales fell away and for a horrible moment she caught a glimpse of how false and one sided their whole friendship might have been.

 _All this time was it just a bit of what... idle entertainment for him?_

"No, enough of your bullshit." Chloe raised her voice, a whip-crack in the quiet apartment. "Why do you keep lingering around in my life if you share absolutely nothing of yours in return?"

"I don't lie detective, not to you!"

"Yeah but you also don't offer anything like the whole truth either do you?" She took another few paces back from him, her wounded pride so bitterly painful it stole her breath away. "You take and take... but really? You give nothing in return. Do you have any _concept_ of how hard it was not to fear the worst whilst you were..." She clenched her fists, "...doing whatever the _hell_ you were off doing?"

Who did he think he was? More to the point, who did he think _she_ was? To put up with this like some kind of idiot.

"You know what? I'm done... done with this..." She waved a hand between them "our 'partnership' let's just call time on it shall we?"

He gaped a little at that, but she pressed on. "One of us should do it at least. Nice and clear so we both know for once where we stand"

Chloe turned away, taking a deep breath through her nose, trying to get a handle on her raw emotions.

With her back to him and her voice lowered, Chloe eventually asked a sincere question. "Can you do something for me?"

Lucifer's response was immediate. "Yes detective anything."

"Don't come back to the precinct... Can you do that for me?" She didn't want to turn around, she didn't want him to see the betraying glitter of tears at the corner of her eye.

Unseen, he sunk onto a barstool, staring at her back in silent misery, not knowing quite what to say.

Chloe shifted, darting a hand up quickly to dab at her eyes "I'm done with waiting and worrying and... caring. The way you spoke... the message you left on my phone... Everything that we've been through together. I thought..." She sniffed, still struggling to hold it together. "I mean, what kind of person _does_ that?" The keen edge of hurt and regret in her tone was worse than any shouted accusation.

He closed his eyes under the onslaught.

"I've had enough of it" Chloe took a few deep breaths to regulate her breathing, only turning back to face him once her eyes were fully dry. Reaching down into her pocket once more, her fingers closed around her keys. They were a solid weight, something real, she brushed her thumb along the rounded edge of some of the jagged teeth.

Chloe knew she couldn't withstand another vanishing act. She cared too much and he evidently cared too little. It would only be a matter of time until he'd do it again and the whole sorry cycle would start over. How many of her friends and colleagues already thought she was a fool? How many of them pitied her for putting up with him? She had to protect herself, she had to do this whilst she still had a damn scrap of pride left.

He was too unpredictable, too uncaring, she was just setting herself up for future heartache if there was no true reciprocation of respect. He'd only go and do all this over again.

Her eyes darted about, this could very well be the last time she ever stood in this lavish apartment. A lump swelled in her throat at the thought whilst her traitor heart thudded a Morse code warning begging her not to leave.

"You said you were coming right over to explain everything. I thought you never lied.. but it looks like you did." She sounded tired, her voice falling so soft. "I think... I think I'm done now... okay?"

.

.

.

Lucifer stared, his heart beating madly. Any moment now she would leave, this was it, he had to say something...

He was physically vulnerable around her, he understood that well enough, but did she also somehow strip him of his eloquence too? His tongue felt heavy, tied in useless knots. If not the whole story he had to at least offer her something if he had any hope of keeping her as a presence in his life. He marvelled at how intense the fear of losing her was, the prospect of going forward without her felt strangely hollow.

 _Come disaster or triumph..._

"My word is my bond detective..." He placed a slightly trembling hand over his heart, "the truth."

Her expression was guarded, disbelief and hesitation clear in her stance.

"I really was on my way to see you" Lucifer turned slightly to lean one elbow on the bar, quietly pouring himself a refill. "I remember the message, everything I said in it was entirely true... I remember... the hospital" He frowned for a moment "I had just seen dear Linda." He tilted his head to one side, "how is she by the way?"

Chloe nodded slowly, this much of the story she already knew. "She's doing alright, recovering well."

"But then things get a little hazy" Lucifer continued, waving a hand vaguely. "How exactly they did it... I don't know?"

Chloe's frown sharpened as she watched him closely, "how who did what?"

Lucifer gritted his teeth for a moment, twisting the glass of scotch around between his filthy hands. The hesitation seemed real to Chloe, it felt different, as though he were honestly struggling to get the words out. He opened his mouth a couple of times to speak, but no words came easily enough to be heard.

"Lucifer, whatever it is-" She began, trying to encourage him on.

"I think my father came after me" he muttered at last, cutting across her reassurance. He shrugged in the silence that followed taking a long sip of his scotch.

Chloe blinked, thrown by the admission, "what?"

Lucifer smirked just a little, "the old sod was just trying to teach me a lesson I think."

"Wait.. your father did this to you?"

"He must have. I don't know of anyone else but dear old Dad who could have pulled it off."

Chloe drew even closer toward the bar, standing a few paces from him. She looked again at the dusty dishevelled state of his skin and clothes. Rather than the after-effects of a wild party, was this the ravages of mistreatment instead? It wouldn't be the first time Lucifer had blamed some wound or scrape on a family feud. He always spoke of his father so disparagingly, always so endlessly negative. Did the constant low-grade paranoia and disdain he casually displayed about his family have actual hard roots?

"You mean you were... abducted?" Chloe squinted at him, wanting to be absolutely clear.

Lucifer nodded. "At first... when I woke up" he continued, "I wasn't sure where I was... but I was very far from the city... very far indeed."

Her previous anger was slowly ebbing away under a steadily rising tide of concern. Was this whole situation on a totally different tangent than what she imagined? It would certainly explain why Lucifer was so hesitant to speak on it. She couldn't help but wonder, her suspicions flaring to life, her protective instinct switching to high alert.

She quietly watched him top up the glass, not wanting to disrupt his fragile train of thought, especially now that he was actually talking.

"If I could have called you" Lucifer flashed her a half smile, "believe me detective, I would have."

Whilst he spoke, Chloe drew closer, really looking at his condition.

"But I was alone and miles from anything of any use. So it was rather a long walk I'm afraid."

"It's been six weeks!"

Lucifer just nodded, casually shrugging it off. "He's done worse before."

Her gaze travelled from his bare feet, over the torn hem of his trousers, up to the unbuttoned borrowed shirt and curled hair. _What on earth did 'worse' mean?_

She had seen him wild and dishevelled before, a swaggering hurricane of unsuitable behaviour and self-loathing at a crime scene, looking like a homeless magician, but this here was a new low.

As he reached for his glass again she caught sight of a dark mark across the side of his neck and dipping over his chest, half hidden by the fabric. Just a brief glimpse of a tract of raw skin, something she had taken at first glance to be dirt, but now she considered the possibility that it might be a smeared trace of old dried blood.

"Oh my god" Chloe uttered a sharp intake of breath "are you okay?" She furrowed her brow, her perspective shifting dramatically.

Lucifer winced at the phrase, but nodded stiffly. "Quite fine detective, I assure you."

She stepped in close, reaching out to pull the fabric aside to get a better look.

"No, don't..." Lucifer muttered softly, "please..." he averted his gaze, pulling back slightly from her touch, one hand reaching up to hold the shirt closed against his chest.

For an electric moment, their hands brushed lightly together.

.

.

.

 _(to be continued)_


	12. Chapter 12

"What happened to you?" Chloe's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as their hands pulled apart. The question was gentle, grounded more in concern than the sharp accusations of before.

Lucifer flicked her a guarded look as he twisted away, reaching over for his glass instead.

"I told you..." He arched a brow, his tone forced and breezily light. Whilst he spoke one hand curled around the crystal tumbler, the other fidgeted with a high shirt button trying to get the damn thing to fasten.

Chloe frowned, sinking quietly onto the barstool next to his, wanting to be on his level rather than standing over him like an overbearing interrogator, a subtle move to encourage him to keep talking, whatever made it easier for him.

"Torment is an old game he'll never tire of." Lucifer shrugged briefly and took a gulp of the dark amber liquor. He huffed a brief chuckle. "No doubt I cause him just as much distress though..." He tilted his head with a hint of mischief, "at least I hope I do?"

She couldn't understand it, why would someone so assured, who had so much wealth and resource, why would they casually put up with being mistreated? Chloe darted a look around the luxurious penthouse as Lucifer continued to quietly drink. Is that where his affluence came from though? She considered his accent, possibly an old family with old money maybe? _Was that why he endured it?_

It would explain his numerous sessions with Linda, they might be wading through a strange and tangled mire of family infighting.

If his father really had kidnapped and hurt Lucifer, if his family had done nothing to intervene, implying by doing so that he was worthless, then perhaps that explained the wild charade, the whole devil shtick he hid behind. 'Many brothers' he had once said, Amenadiel had seemed a good man but even he had never offered any further clue as to their shared family history. She'd never met any of the others, or even heard their names.

Instead of supplying answers, Lucifer was just providing a fresh crop of unresolved questions.

Already in her mind she was building the groundwork for a case. The memory of his old scars, of all those times that he had shied away or casually dismissed bruises or unexplained wounds. They all crowded for attention. Chloe felt a swoop of guilt that something had been happening to her friend all along and she hadn't seriously intervened. But then no matter how hard she tried, no matter how often she'd asked if he needed to talk, he had never once offered a glimpse behind that impenetrable armour.

 _She had tried._

You could only push so far before you started to overstep the mark though.

Any time she got too close to the topic, he'd always throw a wall up and leave her cold on the other side of it. She ducked her head to catch his eye, "you know... if you wanted to prosecute-"

Lucifer nearly choked on his drink.

Chloe pushed on, "If you did, you know I'd help okay?"

Her concern slid swiftly down into confusion as Lucifer burst out into a delighted laugh. He dragged a filthy backhand across his mouth, wiping the spill from his chin as he chuckled. "No detective, that's not remotely possible."

"If you were willing, we could find a way?"

He regarded her with something akin to wonder, then eventually he just shook his head with a raw grin. "No, believe me, it'll never happen." She might have expected resignation in his tone, but she couldn't detect a trace of it, instead there was just a profound amusement. It was hard to see what the hell was so funny about it.

 _Didn't he even want to consider it?_

Lucifer tried to mentally picture a mortal court, Chloe front and centre bristling with righteous determination, giving evidence against his father. It was the funniest thing he had heard in a long while. He could feel the weight of her worried stare gradually increase the longer his grin lingered on though.

"It's quite fine Detective, really."

He caught her glancing at his neck, a frown spreading across her features as she studied the dirt and traces of old blood. Inwardly he sighed, there was not a chance she was going to let this go now.

She tentatively rested a hand on his forearm, halting his drinking just for a moment. "It doesn't look all that fine from here."

With a tilt of the head she peered at him, her brow furrowed, the simple look conveying the depth of her worry and determination.

Lucifer lowered his gaze, the smile fading as he peered at the slender fingers that rested against his skin. She was tracing her thumb around in a small side to side motion, an unconscious and reassuring gesture. He was transfixed by the cool touch, the hairs subtly rising on his arm in response.

He'd never suffered a drought of physical touch, he entertained a constant stream of mortals, sometimes many at once. He took great pleasure in discovering, stirring and then utterly sating their desires. He knew every trick in the book, he was the prize author of it. But still, that small unthinking motion, the gentle stroke of the tip of her thumb intended purely to soothe and reassure him, it was so innocently intimate and... new. It stirred within him a curiously deep ache.

The breath nearly froze in his chest as he stilled, not ever wanting her to stop.

.

.

.

"Have you ever considered hiring protection?" Chloe pushed on with a determined frown. She watched as Lucifer slowly tilted his head distractedly to look at her.

His confused expression was soft and vague. "Apart from Maze? Honestly, no I haven't, of course not... why on earth would I?"

"Because..." she gestured with her free hand, an exasperated wave, "look at you?"

Chloe pulled her hand back from his arm, glancing around the penthouse afresh. As she twisted away she missed the scrunch of dismay that flickered across his face. Lucifer pressed his lips down into a frustrated line, folding his arms low across his chest. One broad hand replacing where her's had just been.

"Is that who it was?" She arched a brow, eventually looking back at him.

"Hmm?" His thumb distractedly brushed in a slow small sweep over his arm, just like her's had, but yet it didn't feel remotely the same.

"Was your father here? Is that who you were asking Mazikeen to deal with?"

He blinked. "No detective, no-one was here. My home remains quite safe."

Chloe cast a pointed look over to the smashed piano that lay accusingly nearby.

"Yes well... ignore that." He muttered, reaching once more for the scotch.

"But if you're in danger?" She persisted.

Lucifer shook his head firmly, "I assure you detective, I'm not" He couldn't tell her that in fact _she_ was the most dangerous thing to happen to him in millennia.

As he refilled his glass he knew... _he knew..._ that she wouldn't give up on this issue. Offering half the facts was turning out worse than offering none at all.

He took a long drag from the tumbler of scotch, glancing down to the small patch of skin where her thumb had danced just moments before.

 _Unless..._ his heart lurched... _unless he told her everything?_

There were so many reasons not to, it never ended well, Raphael was right.

 _But then..._

He remembered Linda laying so frail in the hospital, but with such a fiercely determined expression. "I walked into this with my eyes wide open" she had murmured, "chose to be your friend and face all that comes with that. The good, the bad... and the crispy".

Linda had chosen to stick with him, as frightening a prospect as it must have been.

 _She had come around eventually._

Lucifer turned the stool around to rest both elbows on the bar. Clenching both hands together against his mouth he fell silent.

Chloe reached over to slowly refill her own glass, giving him a steady sidelong glance but willing to give him the moment of reprieve that he seemed to suddenly need.

Lucifer ducked his head down, pressing the clasped hands lightly against his brow.

"Mortal life is very short isn't it?" he muttered low.

Chloe nodded slowly, "it really is" she watched him closely, unsure of where this was going.

He exhaled, eyes closed, the pose almost like a prayer. _Would it be worth it?_

Even if he sidestepped around the full truth, it'd still be an omission. There would still be a whole host of things left unsaid and carefully dodged around. If not an outright lie, then it was at best a well meant deception.

 _Rattle the dice, let them roll, hold your breath as you watch them tumble..._

He took a few deep steadying breaths.

 _Come disaster or triumph..._

"Ever heard the tale of the bird in the mead hall?" he asked at last, finally raising his gaze to peer at the bright wall on the other side of the bar. He dropped both hands around his drink, toying with the glass.

Chloe shook her head, "No" she dragged the word out, fully staring at him now, totally lost.

"It's an old one, but I always found it rather fascinating." His eyes remained fixed ahead, as though he dare not look at her. "Imagine there's an ancient great hall with a bright fire, full of feasting. All the while a winter storm rages outside."

She tilted her head to one side, intrigued, his voice a pleasing rumble as he carried on.

"The life of a mortal is like a bird, it darts through one window seeking shelter, for a rare fleeting moment there it enjoys all that light, heat and noise in the hall. But then it soars straight out through the other side, lost within the darkness of the storm once more."

Lucifer, took a long sip of scotch, his mind racing. _Would it be worth it?_ If she could withstand the whole truth, even then, they'd only share a few brief moments of his long life together, then she would be gone again.

"What lies on either side of all that life and light, the bird doesn't know, it isn't _meant_ to know... It just... lives." He shrugged, his face falling.

 _What would you gain from it... What would she?_ He closed his eyes, still not facing her.

 _It never ends well._ Chances were this was going to be a mistake.

 _The good, the bad.. and the crispy._ Or maybe not?...

"Sometimes I wonder if _I'm_ the hall, or part of the dreary bloody winter outside?" There was a melancholy to his tone that she wasn't liking at all.

Chloe leant closer, frowning in concern, "Surely you're supposed to be the bird in that scenario?"

"No... never that..." He huffed a small laugh, finally looking at her. "The bird flashes through all too quickly and then it's..." his gaze darted over her face, studying it with a wounded intensity "...then it's gone". _She would go to heaven eventually... of course she would. Even in Hell it would be different._ He would never wish that direction for her anyway. Whatever happened, she would go.. and he would stay.

He gave her a strange weary look. "A multitude of birds swarm by, but you see the hall carries on, so too does the storm outside."

"Lucifer, you're not making any sense." Chloe frowned.

"No, I don't suppose that I am." He ran a hand over his face, unsteadily pushing the barstool back as he stood up.

"I'm sorry detective" he looked down at her with an edge of hesitation, "but I've not quite told you everything yet..."

Lucifer slowly walked to the centre of the room, his back to her. "When I left the message, I was on my way over to you. You see I had an epiphany of sorts."

Chloe twisted her seat around, drink in hand, watching his every move.

"There was something I was intending to... to tell you." Lucifer was anxious, she could detect a hesitant tremor in his voice.

She narrowed her eyes "What are you doing?"

"You need to see..." he tilted his head to one side, casting her a look over his shoulder as he unbuttoned the old shirt. "I think... it's the only way you'll believe me."

Lucifer shrugged the soft fabric of the shirt away, revealing the smooth skin of his back, free of the deep scarring that used to reside on his shoulders.

Chloe stilled, her words faltering as he tossed the soft shirt to one side.

She found herself on her her feet, staring at his back, brow deeply furrowed, not understanding at all how it was possible. The two scars had been gnarled and deep. They had looked incredibly painful and serious in the brief flashes she had caught of them before. Lucifer had always been so conscious of them, careful to keep them hidden from her. His back looked, healed, no... more than that... it looked liked the scars had never existed at all.

Lucifer grimaced unseen, taking a single deep breath before straightening up. "I was on my way over to you..." He turned around slowly to face her. "I didn't lie... I really didn't..."

She gasped at the raw scars that travelled down his neck and across his upper chest. The marks looked pink and sore and barely healed over, all blasting in one direction across his skin. _Scars don't just move, they don't migrate... What the hell? What could have done this to him?_

"But you were right, Chloe" he continued, his voice low and almost breathless as it caressed her name.

 _Come disaster..._

Lucifer exhaled, his hands flexing into fists as he nodded to himself...

 _Or triumph..._

His wings unfurled slowly. Lucifer grimaced as the beautiful feathers cast their soft glow into the apartment.

The only sound in the penthouse was an audible gasp and the smash of a crystal tumbler hitting the floor.

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The tale Lucifer refers to is originally by the Venerable Bede. A historian and saint from the early middle ages, who I think Lucifer might have enjoyed a philosophical conversation or two with.

(to be continued!)


	13. Chapter 13

Chloe snorted a laugh, the shattered fragments of glass on the floor completely forgotten. It was an abrupt noise, bursting unexpected and harsh into the quiet of the penthouse. "What are you trying to pull?" She squinted against the wall of bright feathers that crowded across the room.

Lucifer watched her with a deeply worried frown, his hands flaring wide apart. When he finally spoke it was with a hesitant tone, the hushed reassurance used when someone precious is teetering up on a high ledge and oblivious to the long drop. "There is no trick Detective."

Her smile slowly died as she tried to ignore the alarm sparking to life in her chest. She tilted her head to one side, hands on hips, waiting for the punchline.

And she waited...

Chloe exhaled a low sigh, "No really..." her voice sharpened with a brisk edge of impatience as she continued to stare. "What is this?"

If the wings were a trick, then they were an incredibly good one. She scowled, scrutinising their structure, looking for the glue. They moved like living things, fluid and alive, subtly flexing as the rest of Lucifer remained motionless. Stare as she might, she couldn't quite grasp how he was doing it.

Lucifer dipped his head, dark eyes watching her every move, "I tried to tell you Detective..." he warily continued, "from the very start..." His frown deepened as her gaze lingered too long on the bright feathers.

Chloe uttered a breathless laugh, shaking her head, growing tired of the ruse. _Was it wires? clever cosplay? what?_

Lucifer risked a step forward and Chloe's eyes widened in alarm as the wings dutifully followed him. They bobbed naturally along in time with his step, settling into a comfortable loose fold over his back.

For the briefest moment her mind veered wildly but she shook her head again to refocus. _Don't be ridiculous..._ The feathers looked so soft, so invitingly pure and beautiful, she couldn't help but stare. Before she could actually think what she was doing, her hand had already stretched forward. A tentative move, a slow-motion reach, as if someone else were guiding her arm and she were merely spectating.

Lucifer took a deep breath and stepped in close, turning to one side to offer her a better view. Glancing over his shoulder he watched the delicate scrunch of her features, the disbelief clouding across her face like an inbound storm. It took an eternity for her hand to finally connect, starting with the very lightest of touches, a delicate fingertip tracing down a long primary feather.

He took his time, unfolding first one wing, then the other, trying not to pull away from the foreign exploratory drag of her hand.

She ran her palm hesitantly up and over to where the wings met his shoulder-blades. Studying... investigating... wanting to be absolutely sure of what she was seeing. Meanwhile he clenched his fists and held a breath. The last hand to touch his wings had been wielding a demon blade, heralding _that_ moment of blood-soaked defiance. His back arched unconsciously away from her touch as it stirred up memories that were best left buried.

Her silence was unnerving, but Lucifer didn't have the least notion what to say, so he remained still, breath held and heart racing whilst she explored.

Gentle fingertips brushed over the smallest feathers, studying how they gradually blended into his smooth skin. He knew she was searching for some logical explanation, a join, a seam, a trick, but there wasn't one to be found.

Chloe could feel the play of muscles, the sinew and bone working beneath the bank of bright feathers. The quills were soft, tangible and undeniably real.

 _They were connected to him, actual living things..._

Her mouth gaped wide, framing a silent laugh, her mind blanking out again with a faint white noise. The spark of adrenaline in her chest seared painfully and spread like wildfire, stealing her breath away. All the while she shook her head in denial, her hands quickly leaping from his back as though scalded. The wings were so large, so close... too close.

Lucifer twisted sharply to face her, the wings swinging around impressively in his wake. He reached out instinctively in case she were to faint or fall, but instead she just recoiled from him, scooting back and stumbling away with a terrible silence.

Her face looked grey, so very pale in the gentle light of the wings.

"Detective?" desperation crept into his tone, she still hadn't uttered a single word...

If she would just blink... _something..._

" _Chloe?"_

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She pressed her back against the bar, each breath coming a little too fast and shallow, never quite enough to provide a decent lungful. Her head felt light, her vision fraying fuzzily around the edge.

Lucifer gritted his teeth, fighting to suppress his own gathering dread, trying to ignore the novelty of feeling what could only be panic. He forced his tone down low and calm, "Detective?" he tried again. She looked about ready to keel over, but whenever he drew close to help, she would shudder another step away.

Chloe pressed a hand onto the bar, leaning heavily onto the cold marble surface.

"I'm still me Detective..." He arched a brow, pointing reassuringly to himself, hopeful that she would respond. He tried the wide flash of a smile, "just Lucifer?"

She uttered a humourless chuckle at the mention of his name, her racing mind already spiralling. _That name... that... name... what did it mean?_ It bubbled into a gasp of a laugh before skidding swiftly down into the breathlessness of a real panic attack.

"Detective!..." he edged forward, the wings flaring wide in alarm at her suddenly erratic breathing pattern. "I tried to tell you..." He grimaced, hands hovering in mid-air, frightened by her rapidly worsening state, uncertain what to do.

Chloe tried to manage a simple full breath, it was suddenly impossible.

The safe moorings of reality had been rudely severed and cast aside and now she was adrift.

 _Okay..._

Only that one word remained, stoic amidst her unravelling thoughts.

 _Okay..._

But this was clearly as far from 'okay' as you could get. _What the hell was happening-?_

With a lurch of vertigo, dreadful realisation began to hit.

 _Does that mean that he's really-...?_

Chloe's knuckles gripped white around the edge of the bar.

 _Oh god-..._

The air in the room was suddenly too thick to drag into her lungs.

Her entire understanding of the world was _wrong_... Her mouth fell open, gaping at the magnitude of what those wings meant, at the bigger picture they hinted at.

 _Oh God!..._

Chloe blinked at the sensation of a warm pair of hands holding her upright, the room was swinging about as someone was guiding her gently over to the deep leather sofa. Her feet fumbled along over the deep pile of the rug and she sank gratefully into the firm cushions as each breath came in a strange husky gasp.

She tilted her head back over the backrest as she fought to breathe.

 _ohGodohGodohGod..._

Somewhere, someone was trying to press a tumbler into her hand, telling her to take a sip and to just keep breathing. There was no hope at all of holding the glass, her fingers were numb and curiously cold.

The glass vanished, but the voice remained. She had no clue what it was saying but it was close by. It was a warm low rumble, offering a constant stream of reassurance. She was vaguely aware of a hand on her arm, the thumb worriedly brushing back and forth in uncertain little strokes across her sleeve.

Chloe shut her eyes, keeping her head tilted back, it felt like she was sinking endlessly down through the chair.

She vaguely felt the hand tighten around her arm, the rumbling voice growing closer and more insistent.

Dizziness spun her around and around in a horrible quickstep and wouldn't let go.

 _...what ...the hell..._

She was vaguely aware of the rumbling voice as it encouraged her on. The warm touch on her arm was a welcome weight, and for that spiralling moment it was the pivot to her whole world.

Nausea flopped her stomach over, giving her mouth a bitter tang. She clenched her jaw against it.

"Just breathe... please?" The low voice cracked, it pleaded softly with her, so very close by.

Chloe struck out for the shore of sanity, concentrating on a simple full breath, then two... then three... Slowly she became aware of someone murmuring her name, the low voice, still at her side.

A pair of dark worried eyes swam into focus, red rimmed and glassy. Lucifer was knelt on the floor by her feet, still bare-chested and filthy, peering up with a deeply worried frown. Behind him the wings were crouched against his back, loosely folded away.

 _Wings... ha!... okay..._

As soon as she caught sight of the wings she screwed her eyes shut and tilted her head back again. With a loud exhale she fought down the tide of panic flooding through her chest and the rolling swoop of nausea that swiftly followed.

The low voice continued all the while, solid and reassuring, something she could anchor herself to. "Detective... I can explain... anything you want to know..."

The voice gradually faded out, "anything... at all?..."

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 _They tumbled from the elevator, hands slipping beneath fabric and limbs pressed tight, stealing long anticipated kisses and nips of bare skin. They fell together onto the sofa, still hopelessly tangled, breathless and giggling, both giddy with raw excitement. She was reaching up, laughing and nonchalantly gripping a pair of dark horns that curved from his brow, using them to push his head back to get a better angle with which to reach his mouth._

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Chloe opened her eyes, blankly regarding the ceiling as the familiar dream faded. The penthouse was darker now, a blaze of red on the horizon casting the room with a warm amber glow.

 _On some level... had she known?_

It took her a few moments to orient herself and to remember the revelation.

 _God..._ She blinked again but the ceiling remained overhead, she was still here... this was still happening.

"Them..." Her voice sounded little more than a husky croak.

It was the first thing she had uttered in a long while, a faint word dredged up from the depths, Lucifer perked up attentively in response, rising onto his knees to lean close. "Chloe?"

"Those are the... _'them'_..." She murmured, her eyes swivelled around slowly to peer at him, "from the argument." Her gaze drifted over to the wings nestled against his back. Her brow furrowed as she linked the conversation from earlier to what lay before her eyes now.

"Oh _that_... yes, I asked Maze for a little favour." Lucifer tilted his head, an encouraging smile dawning across his face, delighted that she was speaking at last. There was a catch in his breath, his voice had lost some of the smooth drawl she was used to. "Turns out she wasn't that keen to help."

Chloe simply stared, "get rid how?" Her question was barely above a whisper, her expression unreadable.

"I asked her to cut them off of course." Behind him the wings twitched and shuffled, maintaining a constant balancing act as Lucifer swayed slightly on his knees.

Her gaze drifted in confusion back to the wings. Lucifer sounded so matter of fact about it, but why would anyone want to destroy something so beautiful? By the light of the distant sunset, the wings looked almost golden.

"But that's... stupid?" It was such an appalling idea that it hit like a dose of smelling salts. She lifted her head from the backrest, peering at him sharply.

Lucifer shrugged "It's what I wanted."

Chloe couldn't help but notice how the wings subtly rose and fell along with the movement of his shoulders. They were connected to his back, a part of him. The logistics of it, removing both wings, it must have been like hacking off a limb. "It must have been painful?" She frowned slowly.

Lucifer just nodded at her wonderful understatement.

"Your old scars..." Chloe waved a curiously heavy feeling hand toward his back, another piece of the puzzle clicking into place.

"Indeed, Maze gave my old pair the snip when we arrived a few years ago."

 _A few years ago, that's why he didn't show up anywhere before then..._ She stared at him, more pieces of the puzzle clicking into place, after all this time spent wondering... it turned out those scars were something he had done to himself.

Chloe peered again at the wings, counting through a few slow breaths. Her heart fluttered unsteadily as she tried to keep up. She couldn't swim too fast through this flood of information or she would simply drown.

 _Why would he do that? What could have possibly driven him to wreck such things of undeniable beauty?_

Eventually she leant forward, closing her eyes and huffing a whispered laugh, cradling her head in her hands. _What was she even doing thinking about bloody wings at all?_

But here they damn well were, right in front of her.

It was all real.

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Lucifer's heart sank as he watched Chloe curl in on herself. He sat back on his haunches, picking up her untouched tumbler of scotch to regard it blankly for a while. In the end he knocked it back, hissing a breath to expel some of his own tension. He fidgeted the glass around, twirling it between his fingers.

There was a long silence, punctuated at last by a quiet muffled question. "But you said..." Chloe muttered from behind her hands, each word an effort, "...all along, you said that you were the devil?"

He leant to one side, propping an elbow on the smooth leather seat cushion next to where she sat, peering up at her from his spot on the floor. _Questions were a good sign. If it kept her talking and engaged, safe from skidding right off the path of sanity... well then, open season, fire away._

"It's one of many names... yes..." he nodded.

An automatic dismissal bobbed up in her thoughts, a knee-jerk ' _yeah right_ ', but she let it pass. Hadn't she spent the last couple of years disregarding every single one of his little comments, thinking him just some louche wealthy playboy, a useful eccentric? She rubbed both hands roughly up and down over her face. How often had strange things happened around him that she had ignored? Had she really known? Had there been a seed of doubt all the while?

What about that time he'd been shot, and apparently walked it off?

Or when she had witnessed him throwing another man hard through a glass wall, with next to no effort?

How did you really explain his strange way with people? The ability to bewitch the truth from suspects, dragging hidden secrets and desires up into the light with just a few words?

Looking back, should she have pieced the clues together rather than shrugging them away? _But this was still impossible.. right?_ She shook her head silently at the thought. To have believed him... to have really believed him would have been insane.

From behind her hands she peeked at the pale wings. _No... this... this is insane._

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"How old are you?" Chloe eventually lifted her head to squint at him, simple questions seemed the best and only place to start.

He flashed a brief smile, "as old as sin love."

Chloe blew out a slow breath and leant back against the headrest. _Had he ever actually said how old he was?_ She had just made an assumption, probably late thirties? Her gaze travelled over him critically, wondering if he could really be hundreds, or even thousands of years old. An immortal? Her rational mind howled a little at that thought, it went against the grain of everything she believed possible.

 _C'mon... One breath, then two... then three. C'mon now... you've got this..._

Lucifer lingered at her feet, twisting an empty glass round and around, she'd never seen him look so haggard and worried. If you took the wings away he looked just like a regular man, a man who had been dragged through a hedge backwards and then lived rough for a month, granted, but still just a man. Chloe caught herself searching for a glimpse of a halo or horns, then snorted at herself for the stupidity of it.

But then, anything was possible, all bets were off apparently?

"Why though..." she managed to quietly ask, "why would you want them destroyed?"

One wing unfolded slowly as Lucifer gave it a sidelong accusing look. "Because..." He narrowed his eyes for a moment, "it was my choice."

Chloe was transfixed by the beauty of the wing as it spread out before her. Lucifer frowned, leaning forward, trying to catch her eye. "I was..." he hesitated, pondering how to best explain it "it was my decision. I wanted to choose my own path, not the one Dad had laid out." She managed to drag her attention back to the moment, refocusing on him with an incredulous look. _His 'Dad'... Jesus... No, I mean-... Oh God..._ Referring to his family was going to be a minefield.

She ran a hand over her face, suppressing an oddly wild little chuckle...

 _Bloody Hell..._

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Lucifer's gaze drifted over to the multitude of bottles ranged behind the bar but he made no move toward them. He desperately desired another drink, just a fortifying gulp of something strong, but if he moved, then maybe the faltering conversation would stutter and die. So he sat on the floor, spinning the empty glass around between his dirty hands, waiting for whatever question Chloe might summon up next.

He sighed inwardly, marching on the Silver City had been less stressful than this. She was coping magnificently though, each question was a minor miracle, proof of her tenacity and strength.

"How far can you fly?" Chloe had pulled a plump square cushion onto her lap like a shield, crossing both arms around it."Could you fly to the moon?"

Lucifer peered up at her with a smirk of surprise. _Really, of all the bloody questions?..._ "Why would I bother? There's nobody there?"

Chloe merely gave him a thoughtful look before huffing a low breath. Her gaze drifted back toward the wings and she nodded towards them. "Is this why you thought you were bulletproof?"

"Usually..." Lucifer drawled, "I am"

"But I shot you?"

"And no-one was more surprised by that than me, I can assure you."

Chloe glanced at his leg, the place where her bullet had carved a path. There had most definitely been a wound, she hadn't imagined it, she had seen the blood for herself. Thinking back to his reaction at the time, he had been utterly appalled... Not at actually being shot but by how painful it had been. He had been genuinely surprised when the leg had collapsed beneath him.

"Usually..." Chloe rolled that particular word around, peering at him.

Lucifer held her gaze, nodding slowly, "but clearly not around you it seems."

"And what does that even mean?"

"I wish I knew" he grimaced. "There's something about you that changes me. I can't explain because I don't understand it either."

"So if anyone else shoots you... you're..." Chloe waved a floundering hand at him, "you're what, totally fine?"

Lucifer nodded with a quicksilver grin, "like water off a ducks back, might sting a tad, but it's really nothing."

"And if I shot you?"

"Yes... well..." he sat back a little, the smile fading at the thought, "I think that would rather be my ticket back south."

Chloe peered at him for a long moment, trying to absorb that idea, before falling back into a thoughtful silence.

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Lucifer twirled the glass awkwardly around, wanting to take this all at her pace, but at the same time bursting to tell her everything now that the floodgates were finally open. Chloe meanwhile took turns between staring at him and the long shadows that crawled across the ceiling. Her train of thought kept swinging between believing him, or logically wanting to scream that no... it was preposterous. But the wings were always there to steer her back to the extraordinary truth.

The next time Lucifer glanced up he caught her looking at his fresh scars. Eventually she stirred, her voice a gentle murmur, "How did it happen?..." her hands were still clutched around the cushion but she nodded towards his chest, leaving no doubt as to what she was referring to.

The steady twirl of the glass between his fingers stilled. Lucifer swayed back a little, tilting his head to one side. "That rather depends on your standpoint Detective."

"What do you mean?" One slender eyebrow arched up.

"It was either a gift, or a punishment." Lucifer looked down again to the woefully empty glass. "In his own twisted way, I believe he meant it as a pat on the back."

"A thank you?..." Chloe repeated quietly, her frown deepening, it made no sense, "for what?"

"The strangest thing" Lucifer huffed a low breath, still gazing at the glass. "I actually did something to help the old bastard out." His shoulders scrunched up in a slow shrug, the wings bobbing silently up in response. "Maybe he was pleased with me?... Maybe he wanted me to have another crack with the wings? He never actually said." Lucifer paused for a long moment, "regardless, I don't want them anymore... I don't want him..." He paused, brow furrowing, "I don't want him dictating what I do... I never have."

His grasp on the empty tumbler tightened for a moment before he carefully placed it down. "You see, it's always been about choice." He finally looked up, scrutinising her with a curiously intense look, "always."

They studied each other for a beat before Lucifer broke the tension, his tone suddenly flippant and light. "I averted a family spat, found Mum some new digs."

Chloe's fingers tightened white around the cushion, but her gaze didn't waver. "You have a mother?" She blinked, the precarious ground of the conversation creaking beneath her.

"Well... yes?" He shot her a confused look, _wasn't that obvious?_

Chloe muttered a low "huh" and leant back, the best response she could muster as another vast facet of the universe revealed itself in a giddy twirl and slotted into place. "But you were hurt?" Her gaze returned to the fresh scarring that puckered across his neck and chest, it didn't seem like a very grateful 'thank you' gesture.

Lucifer hesitated, uncertain how to deflect her concern. "A side effect of getting the wings stitched back on I suppose, they have to toss you back down here once they're done."

"What?" Chloe's eyes widened.

He shrugged it off with a slow smile, "It wasn't the first time Detective, at least I didn't fall as far this time."

Chloe blinked, the ground of conversation was suddenly in danger of splintering apart as she connected the dots. _Fall... as in... from heaven..._

"It leaves quite the burn, so the scars stay. Nothing you can do about them." Lucifer carried on, "I didn't ask for them back... I certainly didn't expect them back." He cast the wings a venomous look as his tone darkened, "I don't even want them."

"How could you not?" her voice was scarcely above a whisper, still a little dazed at the magnitude of what they were discussing, her gaze sliding once more to his back.

"You don't understand what they mean..."

"But they're beautiful." _Heavenly.. they're heavenly..._ Even in her shock she found them calming to look upon, somehow reassuring.

He grimaced "It's not what I am..." She was staring too long at his wings, not at _him_ , her eyes glazing with a kind of adoration. Just a glimpse of the divine could enthral a mortal and perhaps she was slipping into that old trap. Lucifer gritted his teeth, treading carefully. "It's not what I am..." he repeated more firmly, "Detective" he dipped his head, forcing her to look directly at him. "Don't be fooled, I'm not an angel." He wasn't, it was important that she grasped this fact.

Her brow furrowed as her gaze slid inexorably back to the contrary evidence provided by the bright wings.

"I was... Once... But Detective, trust me. That was a very long time ago." Frustration coloured his voice. "It's not _who_ I am"

"Who are you then?" Her voice had fallen soft and bemused, how could he deny what he was when the proof was dominating the whole room?

Lucifer sat back, despairing of making her understand. "I told you..." he frowned. "I never lied..." Even now that he was out of the celestial cupboard, she still wasn't believing him. "I'm the Devil."

She looked between him and the wings and slowly shook her head. "But you can't be." It was impossible to connect such beauty with that name.

"I am..." he was almost pleading with her to understand. "There's things I haven't shown you."

It was like a slap, the implication that there were still major secrets being held. Chloe leant back, away from him, her hands tightening once more around the cushion as she threw him a long hard stare. She lifted her chin, _"s_ how me then..."

"No... You don't want to see it."

"I do... the whole truth. If we are doing this?" She glared, "then you need to show me everything." Chloe's tone sharpened with determination. "The truth... Lu-..." she had almost said his name, but it had died in her throat. There were just too many connotations around those seven letters for her to be wiling to utter them just yet.

He noticed the pause and it caused a surprising sting.

Lucifer hung his head, mentally swearing a streak at himself, genuinely uncertain whether to go ahead.

He looked back up at her guarded expression, the way her eyes flashed a warning that demanded an end to his games _._

 _Bollocks..._

 _In for a penny though?..._

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 _This would be too close..._

Lucifer cast about before suddenly standing and taking a few paces away from the sofa. He tucked the wings in close to his back as he battled with own hesitation.

"Alright... just... Just you might not want the hi-def close up on this one." He spread his hands wide, flashing her a smile that wasn't returned. Chloe watched him cautiously, her arms still folded tight around the cushion, she could tell he was struggling. She had never seen him so.. nervous. It was tempting to relent and call him back to her side, but she held firm, this needed to be seen through. With great effort he seemed to take a breath and come to some kind of conclusion.

"This is..." Lucifer finally settled, turning to face her with an awkwardly wary look. "Well, this is probably more like what you were expecting."

 _She saw red, such painfully red raw flesh, muscle and sinew stripped bare, all blistered and glistening. It were as though his skin had just dissolved mid-sentence, he looked so terribly scarred and... those glowing eyes..._

Chloe's fingers splayed open as the cushion tumbled softly onto her lap, both hands flying to cover her mouth, pressing hard against her lips in shock. To glimpse this apparition was bad enough, but to see it move and speak too, to be the _focus_ of those sulphurous eyes. She stared at him, through him, her unfocused eyes popping wide with fright.

Lucifer backed a step away, frowning. "I'm not an angel, not any more... and I haven't been for a very long time." He grimaced, letting the devil face fade. "I tried to tell you, over and over." He paused, the words dying in his throat as Chloe registered no response at all.

"Detective?"

Her horrified stillness was absolute.

Lucifer clenched his hands tight, nails digging into each palm, _shouldn't have done it... idiot..._ He tilted his head, looking away, unable to bear her frozen expression. She had been coping fantastically til now, staying just the right side of coherent in the face of the divine. Quite impressive, but now he'd clearly pushed her past the brink.

He stumbled forward and knelt by her feet, expecting her to shrink back, but she only continued to stare ahead. She neither flinched nor blinked when he leant forward to rest a hand on her shoulder, he watched closely for any reaction, but there was none.

 _"Chloe?"_ he whispered into the silence.

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Lucifer eventually paced over to the bar, one shaking hand reaching out to snare the neck of a dark bottle of scotch, he splashed out two generous shots

The amber back-light from the wall spilled across the dim penthouse, the glow catching on bottles here and there like jewels. He could drink it all, every last bottle, and it wouldn't have the least effect on the molten guilt coursing through him.

He glanced back over his shoulder but Chloe remained quite unchanged, statue-still on the sofa, staring blankly into space. In an effort to drown out the wail of panic in his chest he downed both drinks in quick succession. _She had been talking! Why the hell had he pushed it further than that?_

He glared upward with a stab of pure loathing for the ineffable bloody plan, if this was truly how it was destined to be, to have revealed all to the Detective only to lose her so swiftly, then he should have been left alone to rot in the desert.

Lucifer lifted the bottle again to recklessly pour out two more shots. He stared dully at the pair of crystal cut tumblers, his lips pressed tightly into a thin flat line, his eyes burning as he blinked to clear his vision.

The quiet of the penthouse hung like a weight around his neck.

 _Idiot..._

He tilted a glass up, downing it in one, before planting it heavily down on the surface of the bar.

 _Think... think_!

He cast about mentally, he had never felt such a boiling in his stomach before, such dread.

He lifted the other glass to his lips, knocking it back with a swift flick of the wrist.

 _Linda..._ He almost physically sagged with relief at the idea. Yes, Linda would know what to do, she had been through this revelation and come out the other side.

Lucifer ran a hand roughly over his face, brushing hard over his eyes. He'd have to try it, he'd have to ask for her help. If she were still frail then... hell, he'd carry her here himself. She might just be able to pick up the pieces of this mess.

He looked back over to the motionless form of Chloe and the panic twisted afresh like a snake in his gut. He needed to act fast, his heart lurched with anxiety at the thought, he needed to do _something_. With a brief nod to himself he pushed away from the bar, stepping back with determination. Maybe he could fix this yet.

An unbelievable pain suddenly lanced up through him, causing him to stumble to one side. It seemed to flood up into his stomach, a hot wire of agony that tugged through the entire length of his leg. Lucifer crumpled in a heap on the floor with a surprised yelp, clutching his bare foot as dark blood welled up between his fingers. A jagged piece of glass protruded from the underside, a shard from Chloe's old glass, buried deep into the soft arch.

Only now did he notice the fragments of wickedly sharp glass, scattered like shrapnel on the floor all around him.

Lucifer grimaced, grunting softly as he dug the glass out in disgust, flinging it far across the room once he had pulled it free. He gasped a breath at how the split in his foot pulsed with absolute agony.

Pulling himself up against the bar, he carefully manoeuvred himself out of the blast radius of broken glass. Limping over to Raphael's old shirt, he tore off a sleeve and wrapped the ridiculously soft fabric tight around his foot. A crude bandage but it would do, as soon as he was away from Chloe then his healing would kick in no doubt.

He looked back to Chloe, still unresponsive on the sofa and he dipped his head in resignation. He limped across the room to her, each painful step leaving a smear of blood on the floor, wanting to try and reach her one last time.

"Chloe?" His voice faltered, loathe as he was to leave her, he knew something had to be done. Something by someone _good_ , not by him. "...I'm sorry... I'll be back soon..."

There was no reaction as he stumbled toward the elevator. Hitting the call button he folded his wings properly away, there would be no room for them in there. As the sleek doors opened, bathing him in light, he slumped wretchedly forward. Keeping his head bowed he leant against the wall, his finger hesitating over the ground floor button.

 _Idiot..._

 _What else did you really expect?_

Lucifer pressed the button, closing his eyes to mirror the doors as they slid shut.

He didn't see the slender hand that reached silently out to stop the doors at the last moment.

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* * *

 _(A/N: Apologies for the horrible delay in getting this chapter out, thank you for sticking with me on this one. I had the horror of losing a massive swathe of writing and it was quite a blow. I'm back in the saddle now and the end of this story is in sight.)_


	14. Chapter 14

The lift mechanism stalled, the doors bumping awkwardly against the obstruction before obediently trundling wide open once more.

Lucifer looked up in surprise.

Chloe was staring at him, a hard inscrutable look, her hand pressed against the frame, ignoring the insistent press of the doors as they tried to close.

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 _She had been dimly aware of a yell and the sound of a fall._

 _There was movement... someone drawing near to place a warm hand on her shoulder. The desperation in his voice was foreign, she could acknowledge that much at least. He had very rarely, if ever, sounded so low..._

 _"...I'm sorry... I'll be back soon..."_

 _The warm pressure on her shoulder released, and she knew he was leaving._ _As her eyes refocused she noticed the trail of blood smeared across the deep carpet. Looking over she could see a figure lurching toward the elevator._

 _Slowly she looked back to the blood... Her partner's blood... Something stirred at the sight of it, cutting through the mental fog._

 _The distant figure paused at the door before limping inside._

 _._

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Chloe tilted her head questioningly, hand still pressed hard against the door. At least the wings were out of sight, it was easier to summon up courage with them gone. Her whole demeanour seemed to imply 'Where the hell are you going _this_ time?'

Lucifer smiled slowly, exhaling a low huff of relief.

Chloe shook her head and his smile faded. She silently nodded back toward the penthouse, keeping a careful distance as he shambled forward to follow her lead.

Lucifer paused as the detective drifted ahead, arms tightly folded around herself. He leant one hand against the Assyrian carved wall to take the weight off his damaged foot, watching her come to a halt in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the balcony and the constellation of city-lights below. She knew... she knew it all now. Question was... what was she going to do with that knowledge?

The detective inhaled, glancing over her shoulder, before balling her hands into fists and looking back out into the night, leaving whatever was on the tip of her tongue unspoken. Lucifer frowned, watching her hesitation with bated breath, completely at a loss as to what her next move might be.

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Chloe refocused her gaze, shifting from the sea of lights below to her own reflection. She looked almost as tired as she felt, tumbling over the bonnet of a car to tackle the culprit in that latest case seemed a lifetime ago, but in reality it had only been this morning.

 _What a difference a day makes..._

Glancing slightly to her right she could see the reflection of Lucifer in the glass. He was far across the room, leaning heavily against the wall, uncharacteristically silent and watching her every move. He looked a mess, he looked human, but that wasn't the truth at all now was it?

Chloe looked back through the window, her gaze dancing restlessly around. Maybe she'd tackled that guy too hard and taken a knock to the head, maybe she'd wake up and this was all a dream, they'd all have a laugh at her wild imagination and then life could go on as it was.

She pushed back a sleeve to pinch her forearm with a hard twist, it hurt.

The sheer terror of before had been overwhelming, but she was free-falling past it now, trusting her gut since her logical mind was still lost in a spiral, chasing impossible facts around and around. The shock and disbelief were so great that she had landed on a comforting plateau of numb calm.

 _Okay... so perhaps he's the actual devil... the one all the stories are about._ A nightmare vision of red danced before her eyes and she shook her head against it.

She glanced discreetly back over to Lucifer, he was resting his head against the wall, apparently content to wait her out. He was so confident, so cocky, such an absolute nightmare to work with sometimes. If... _this..._ was true, then his behaviour made a strange kind of sense. The oddness of his reactions, his complete disregard for rules, his party-like-there's-no-tomorrow wild behaviour. He barely functioned like a normal person on a bad day. It fit, in a stupid and ridiculous way, it fit.

Her friend, her partner... huh... some detective she was.

Chloe stirred, tilting her head to peer at him directly over her shoulder. "What do I even call you?" _Beelzebub... Satan... Lord of Hell?_ The names danced through her mind in neat procession, coloured in with shades of hellfire and brimstone, they were all equally ridiculous.

"Lucifer is fine." he perked up at the break in the heavy silence looming over of the penthouse, watching her twist around to fully face him. "I've been called a lot of things", he shrugged casting about for something reassuring to say. "My brother... he sometimes calls me Luci?"

"Seriously?" She arched a brow.

He shrugged as she shot him a surprised look.

"Your brother." Chloe paused, "you mentioned him in your message. You talked about... about Amenadiel.. _about Maze._ " She frowned trying to recall his exact words. "My brother is so saintly and Maze... isn't?" Her brow crinkled as she muttered the words. "What did you mean by that?"

"Ah..." Lucifer shifted his stance uncomfortably, but his honour dictated he provide a straight answer to such a direct question. "Amenadiel is an angel, and Mazikeen, well... she's a demon."

"What!" Chloe's voice soared with alarm, her eyes popping wide. "She's _what?_ "

Lucifer limped away from the wall, hands flying wide, "She a demon, she's been my bodyguard for a long time."

Chloe rocked back at the thought. There was a demon in her home, her housemate was a... a demon? Trixie had been babysat... _by a demon!_ She staggered forward, launching herself toward the lift. She nearly made it before Lucifer had snaked a hand around her wrist in an effort to slow her down.

"Your spawn is safe, she always has been." He reassured quickly, trying to soothe her, he knew that Mazikeen had formed a strange friendship with the child and that made her truly the most well defended mortal alive.

Chloe shook him off and threw him an incredulous look.

"Trixie is in the safest possible hands" Lucifer tried again, tilting his head, "you know Maze wouldn't-"

"No!" Chloe snapped, "I don't know... I don't know _any_ of you apparently." She paced away from Lucifer, casting him a look of utter disbelief. "She's my daughter... and now she's involved too? You've exposed her to..." she threw her hands in the air, "to..."She floundered at trying to express the icy feeling that had flooded through her chest at the prospect of her daughter being in danger, let alone her being acquainted with players in some kind of divine war.

She drew a ragged breath, looking away, "we were better off without all of you." _Life was simpler then._

Lucifer's face fell, "...she really is safe, I'm not lying to you Detective. Mazikeen is fierce and loyal, she's not what you think." _Nor am I..._ He tried a step forward and gritted his teeth at the pain from his damn foot "You've seen them together... she would never hurt an innocent." He shrugged with absolute sincerity "she'd find no fun in it." It was supposed to be reassuring, but Chloe didn't react as he hoped.

They stared at each other for a long moment, one in which several possible responses flitted past unsaid.

Chloe wheeled around to stalk across the room, her steps galloping no-where near as fast as her racing thoughts. Eventually she snapped around to pin him with a hard look, "who else knew?"

Lucifer slowly lifted his head, still reeling from her earlier comment. "Linda" he said simply.

Chloe stilled, pulled up short by that fact, "what?" Her friend knew too? Linda had been in on it? Chloe felt her stomach lurch with a kick of betrayal.

"I told her... she thought it was all just some complex analogy, she pushed and pushed... and so... I told her the truth."

"And how long ago was this?"

"Only a few months" Lucifer murmured, as if a lower volume could lessen the blow.

Chloe reeled, her friend had known for months? "How did she cope?"

"It took her some time... In the beginning she didn't react very well." Lucifer frowned and paused for a short moment. "No... Not well at all..." Lucifer shifted his weight from his foot uncomfortably "I'm sure I mentioned it to you... that I thought I had broken her?" He arched a brow, bemused that she didn't remember it too.

"Who else knows?" Chloe pushed on, determined to wring every last drop of truth out of him. She folded her arms defensively around herself, "does Dan know?"

 _"Douche?"_ Lucifer sounded both surprised and appalled at the idea "Please Detective, of course he doesn't."

Chloe's eyes widened and she suddenly swore, fumbling quickly for the phone tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. Flashing up in the alerts were two missed calls and a slew of text messages, all riffing on the theme of 'are you alright?' It had been hours, so many hours ago since she had left the precinct to heed Maze's surprise summons to Lux. Dan must have been increasingly worried as the day had silently worn on.

Lucifer watched her with growing horror. "You're telling him all this in a text?"

Chloe threw him an exasperated look, "No of course I'm damn well not." She turned her back on him, pacing back across the room, her gaze fixed on the glow of the screen as her thumb hesitated over the tiny key pad. Where on earth did she even start? _'Is Trixie okay? I'm so sorry, I'm fine Dan.'_ She glanced briefly over to Lucifer and tapped out ' _everything is fine'_ then hit send.

Dan's response flashed up almost straight away, _'Trixie's asleep here, r u def ok?'_ He must have been so worried.

Chloe sighed at the excellent question, was she anywhere close to okay? After a moment her thumbs flew over the keypad again _'I'm fine... honestly... Just a bit complicated. L was in some trouble, he's okay now... I think... Thanks Dan x'_

She looked up to find that Lucifer had hobbled over to the bar and poured himself a large drink. He was regarding her with a sideways look of furtive disinterest, pretending he didn't care what her private conversation had entailed even though he was clearly bursting to know.

He poured out a second glass and tilted his head, implying she was welcome to it.

Chloe leant a hip against the back of the sofa, squinting at him as she refolded her arms. Her voice softened, "why didn't you tell me before now?"

Lucifer blinked, resting his empty glass beside her untouched one. "I rather think I did. I never lied to you, I said it over and over again. I always said who I was."

"You said the words yes, but you never..." Chloe gestured in his direction, "you never really _told_ me though did you?"

Lucifer shook his head and muttered thoughtfully "It's a dangerous thing to do. Your history books are littered with mad old babbling saints and prophets that it didn't end well for..." He topped up his glass slowly then shrugged, "some mortals just can't handle the truth... and well... I thought it wasn't worth the risk if it meant losing you."

Chloe tilted her head, watching closely how Lucifer looked away and fiddled with his glass. _Mortals._ That was quite a heavy word to throw around, it implied quite clearly that he wasn't one of that number. Rather like he was an outsider looking down, talking about something small and rather quaint.

A perspective that chilled when you really thought about it.

Chloe pushed herself away from the sofa, pacing slowly over to the balcony door. She heaved it open and stepped through, closing her eyes as the nighttime breeze danced up and tugged at her hair, whipping small strands aside.

 _One day... the span of just one day had changed everything._

She stared out across the twinkling city lights of Los Angeles below. There was the roar of distant traffic, the murmur of life going on, people were carrying on quite happily not knowing any of this... blissfully unaware...

Chloe leant her hands against the ledge, looking downward, lost in thought.

 _None of these people knew._

A day ago she had been one of them.

Lucifer had watched her lean against the clear glass of the ledge, her gaze fixed below. In a world of easy to read mortals, of so many secrets and desires laid out like books for him to idly read, she was completely opaque. Whatever she was thinking, it was a mystery to him.

He limped over to rest a hand against the balcony door, careful not to step out any further and potentially crowd her space. His murmur was so low it was almost swallowed by the sounds from the streets far below. "It's not so terrible is it?... To know?" There was a ghost of a hesitation to the question.

Chloe took a few slow breaths of the fresh air, letting it revive her, before turning her back to the world below. She gave him a long look, up and down, as if making a decision.

Lucifer tilted his head questioningly. "What is it Detective?"

Her gaze took in the haggard state of him, the fresh scars, the dust, the way he was carefully keeping his weight off the bloodied foot. Chloe sighed, he might be the Devil, but he was also oozing blood onto his fancy carpet and hanging desperately onto her every word.

"Don't you have a first aid box around here?"

Lucifer blinked, "well... no? Frankly I've never needed one." His mouth twisted up with amusement at the very idea.

Chloe rolled her eyes and nodded towards the sofa "Just... go and sit down before you fall down."

Lucifer smirked briefly, about to make a comment on her choice of words, but she jabbed a finger pointedly at the sofa, neatly cutting him off.

 _"Just... sit."_ It was a tone that brooked no argument.

And to her amazement, the Devil... the _actual_ Devil, did exactly that.


	15. Chapter 15

"C'mon, give me your foot."

Lucifer frowned at her no-nonsense tone, but complied, swinging his leg carefully up onto the sofa and into her lap. He leant back, elbows propped against the end cushion, arching a brow at her flustered reaction.

Chloe took a steadying breath, little fractures radiated across her thin veneer of calm as she cupped his heel in her palm.

"Just let me see how bad it is... okay?" She pushed the feeling of uneasiness down and scrutinised the damage. This was something she _could_ cope with and going through the motions helped. Under her breath she muttered "okay... o-kay..." more for her own reassurance than for his. Here was an injury, someone clearly in pain, years of training and an innate sense of compassion sprang to her aid. Autopilot was a wonderful thing when you needed it most.

He winced and grumbled a yelp of "easy!" as she unwound the bloodied dressing and tilted his foot gently toward the light. There didn't seem to be any broken remnants of glass still in there, it was a messy cut but at least the bleeding seemed to have slowed. It must have hurt like blazes, but it could have been so much worse.

Her fingertips brushed against the tattered hem of his trousers, a torn and dusty ruin of what had once been a fine piece of tailoring. It was strange to see him so... unravelled. She let her gaze wander further up, over the dirt and dried blood caked on his skin and muttered,

"you really are filthy."

Lucifer rallied a smile, distracted by how soothing a warm pair of hands around an aching foot could be,

"why thank you Detective."

"No..." she continued seriously, "you should get yourself cleaned up."

"Yes well... I intended to Detective" his low voice rumbled with an edge of petulance, "but I kept on getting interrupted."

"Now's as good a time as any" she countered, nodding in the direction of his en-suite, "trust me, you'll feel better for it."

"I do", Lucifer shrugged as if that was ever in doubt. He paused a beat and then beamed at her hopefully, "going to help?"

Chloe arched a brow, releasing his foot all too quickly back down onto the leather cushions in response. She cast her gaze around the penthouse instead, trying not to think about the fact she was _still here... with the Devil... who was by the way half-naked._ She shook her head and huffed, "no... you go ahead."

Lucifer peered at her,

the orders, her chiding tone, was this her way of coping? Whatever it was, it was a magnificent improvement upon the frozen horror of before. So he tilted his head in acquiescence to her wishes and swung his leg off the sofa.

He couldn't help the small groan of weariness that escaped as he lurched upright and shuffled across the room. he'd longed for a shower for so long, the bliss of washing the bloody desert fiasco from his skin, but now he found his step slowing, that he was actually pausing at the tantalising threshold of the opulent bathroom. A nagging doubt sprung up and whispered in his ear, would the detective even stay if he left her side?

Would she come to her senses and flee? Lucifer grimaced, leaning one hand against the door-frame as he turned back to look at her. She had scrunched the old bloodied sleeve of Raphael's shirt distractedly in her fist, but otherwise she hadn't moved at all.

She peered over to him quizzically before pointing toward the bathroom, "go on..."

He frowned,

"Right... well... do make yourself at home?" he ventured, waving a hand in a vague flourish toward the bar.

Chloe blinked at the vast array of bottles ranged on the shelves and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "uh-huh!"

Lucifer hesitated, but that seemed to be the best answer he was going to get. The uneasy feeling was like a dull ache, not knowing what she would do felt utterly wretched. He blew out a shaky breath and turned back to the en-suite, leaving Chloe alone and staring at the drinks.

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Chloe stared ahead vacantly for a moment, running the soft fabric of the shirt idly between her fingers. Her reverie was eventually broken by the sound of the shower thundering to life. She glanced up to see opaque clouds of steam beginning to tumble from the door to the en-suite.

He was busy and she was alone.

Blowing out a slow breath she rose from the sofa and glanced over to the elevator doors. She could leave, right now if she wished. The fact she was free to leave made her conversely feel more at ease with staying. She took the opportunity instead to distract herself with a slow walk around the apartment. There were artefacts here from all over the world, the penthouse was probably an archaeologists delight, Chloe had never really appreciated that fact before. She'd visited so often but never really properly nosed around, you didn't do that, you didn't go rooting through someone else's stuff. But now after the day she'd had, well... she felt no qualms in diving in and looking for a little corroborating evidence.

She paused by the large stained glass window that dominated the apartment. "Hmpf" she muttered, resting her hands heavily on both hips, the soft fabric still clenched in one fist. There was a large tree and two frolicking figures beneath, possibly the garden of Eden before it all went wrong. She tilted her head to one side pondering why he would specifically choose this image? Ruby, emerald and gold glints of light shone through the beautiful old glass. The figures looked happy, they had not been expelled yet, it was still all yet to happen.

Why would he choose this scene for his home? He slept barely a few paces from the old window, so what did that mean?

 _He'd probably been there when it happened..._

Chloe pulled her jacket a little closer at the thought of a snake with a British accent that whispered with some amusement "what is it you truly desire, is it that apple? what... really?" Shaking her head she stepped quickly away from the window, looking for a better distraction. The concept of Lucifer being _Lucifer_ was still tough to swallow. As soon as she thought she had a handle on it, her mind would waver and panic. Trembling at some new stray observation.

She was glad he wasn't around, that she had this time to process some of the insanity alone.

Chloe wandered over to the library. Arching a brow that he actually _had_ a library. She tried to picture him curled up quietly with a book and she just... couldn't. The extensive bar made perfect sense for such a party animal, but a library? What kind of books would the Devil actually treasure anyway?

She leant closer to look...

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Lucifer stared at himself in the long mirror of the en-suite, caught by the reflection of the new scars, at how much he had changed. He traced a finger over each mark on his skin, feeling increasingly annoyed that he would see them everyday. It was so much easier to ignore scars that were on your back. With a low huff he dragged his hand over the scruffy beard forming on this chin, it would definitely have to go, that was one thing he _could_ change at least.

He'd turned the shower on, but was yet to step under it, instead he'd lingered in the gathering steam, waiting to hear familiar slide and rumble of the elevator to signify that the Detective had fled.

But it never sounded.

He risked leaning through the door, poking his head around to watch Chloe for a while as she wandered through the penthouse. The sight of her calmly poking through his belongings made the tight knot that had been forming in his chest subtly relax. Before she could turn around and spot him, he ducked back into the en-suite. Somewhat reassured he allowed himself at last to kick off the filthy trousers, which he intended to joyfully burn at some point, and to limp under the blissfully hot shower.

He stood motionless, dipping his head beneath the heavy stream of hot water, sighing with relief as the dirt began to swirl around the drain.

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Chloe rested a hand on the sliding ladder, looking up over the high shelves. It looked organised, cared for and well used.

There were heavy manuscripts stacked on a shelf nearby, several leather bound tomes with hand-sewn spines and faded names, she reached randomly for one and flipped it open to stare at a barely legible scratch of dark ink across the dry paper. She carefully rifled through a few more pages, it was handwritten and undeniably old, apparently a play of some sort. Placing it back on the shelf she traced her finger over the single handwritten word on the faded spine, _Cardenio_. She pulled her hand guiltily away, feeling that she should be wearing white cotton gloves before touching something so obviously old and valuable.

Across the room there was a small statuette nested on it's own tall plinth. Chloe squinted, leaning close to examine it, it was hard to determine the era it was from, but she would guess maybe Aztec? The pale stone was smoothly carved, the fan shaped headdress intricately detailed. The figure was grinning... or snarling... his frame so thin that his ribs were showing. Was it an ancient depiction of a god? Was it a statue of _him_? She blinked and hugged her arms around herself a little tighter, as if a chill wind had blown down her spine.

It was just a small lump of stone really, but it spoke of ages and civilisations past. She shivered at the idea that it might be personal to Lucifer, that he might have been hanging around then too. That the word _old_ wasn't nearly adequate enough to begin to describe him.

With a deep frown she looked back over to the open door of the en-suite and the steam pouring through the doorway. Lucifer had been in there for a long while. It was terribly quiet in the penthouse apart from the rush of water.

She hesitated, then sidled over to the open door, tilting her head to peer into the clouded room.

There'd been a flurry of occasions early on where he'd stripped completely naked around her, completely on purpose and quite proudly. He hadn't understood normal people did not go around, tackle out, with a grin of 'here I am!' as a way of wooing. _'The berries are ripe Detective!'_ She had, quite literally, seen it all before with him.

It was surprising to witness him stood quite simply beneath the jet of water, his hair soaped up into a rough Mohawk like a kid. Chloe had half expected to see his feathers out, ruffling like a swans wing, the water sliding majestically off them or something. But no, it was just him, standing rather awkwardly beneath the shower with his back turned, his weight resting on one foot, seeming rather tired but content in the moment. It was such a very mundane and human scene, just a guy, having a wash after a long day.

Lucifer hung his head, expelling a quiet sigh as he worked the shampoo out of his hair, unaware that he was being watched.

She was drawn once more to marvel at the smoothness of his back, to where the deep scars had once been. Her gaze roamed, lingering for a long moment before finding herself blushing and needing to duck away before she was caught. Lucifer would find it hilarious, no doubt, to catch her in the act of _ogling._

Chloe strode over to the bedroom and distracted herself by flinging the cupboards open one by one. There were shelves of expensive watches, a wealth of pocket handkerchiefs and a tall wardrobe dedicated to dressing gowns. Eventually she found what she was looking for, a stack of beautiful Egyptian cotton bedding. Peeling off a pillowcase, she wandered back to the bar and set about tearing it into neat strips.

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Lucifer shrugged on the long navy silk dressing gown and tied it together loosely over his boxers. He smiled with satisfaction at how smoothly the fabric flowed over his skin. Why mortals didn't go around wearing silk all the time he had absolutely no idea, it was certainly one of their best inventions. Limping out into the penthouse he was intrigued to find the detective perched on one end of the sofa, apparently waiting for him with a determined look.

He tilted his head in query but she simply gestured for him to sit.

Chloe was surprised by his hair, it was slightly longer than usual and still wet from the shower, there was a kink of a curl to it. The scruffy beard was gone though, shorn down to the dark stubble she was more used to. He looked exhausted as he hobbled closer... not like some celestial being, just an exhausted version of the man she thought she knew before.

She lifted a wad of cotton fabric "I'm just going to bandage up your foot okay? Give it a bit of clean."

"If you must" he shrugged, thinking nothing of it as he lifted his foot once more into her lap.

"Now this might sting a little" Chloe frowned, leaning to one side to grab a clear crystal decanter that she had borrowed from the bar. She pulled out the stopper and splashed some of the liquid onto a wad of cotton, hesitating only a heartbeat before dabbing at the wound with it.

Lucifer howled _"Mother of fu-"_

 _Across Los Angeles, animals went mad at the sudden otherworldly sound of pain. Birds clattered manically up into the air en-masse and every dog crouched and whimpered in fear._

Chloe blinked slowly, rocking back ever so slightly in the aftermath of the shout, the roar still ringing in her ears. She took a slow breath and then cocked her head impatiently to one side. "Are you done?"

Lucifer just hissed, the vivid glow in his eyes slow to fade, "I don't know... _are you?_ "

She looked over the fresh scars on the rest of his body, holding the vodka laced cotton ominously aloft, "okay... anywhere else?"

He swore under his breath, squirming a little away from her on the sofa, but she managed to keep a good hold on his foot. He glared accusingly at the bottle, as though the alcohol had personally betrayed him, sighing

when he saw the label.

"Oh... bloody hell..." he muttered with utter dismay "not the Kors." He held his hand out for the crystal decanter. "Let's not waste all of it now shall we?"

Chloe passed over the exquisitely expensive vodka without comment, rolling her eyes only briefly as he tilted the whole bottle up to his mouth for a long swig. When he came up for air he cradled the bottle to his chest, pointedly not offering her a share of it. Chloe just shook her head, her attention drawn back to the more urgent task of bandaging his foot.

For a while there was silence as Chloe tied clean strips of fabric neatly around the wound and Lucifer clutched at the bottle of vodka, wary of any repeat surprises from the Detective. When she had finished, tucking the last fold of cotton neatly into the dressing, she left his foot in her lap, something he was surprised and secretly pleased about.

"You know..." he murmured, stretching out and sinking a little lower on his end of the sofa "you've slept here before, remember? When you and Douche-"

"Yes..." Chloe cut in, leaning to one side as she remained sat upright, her head resting against the smooth leather cushion headrest. "I know the night you mean... though I don't really remember _that_ night."

Lucifer reached over to let the bottle of vodka rest on the floor, letting it go at last, but still very much at his end of the sofa and out of the Detective's reach.

"You should have seen your face when you woke up." He chuckled lazily at the memory, she had been so appalled.

"I don't remember the actual night..." Chloe continued quietly, "I woke up horrified that we had..." she waved a hand vaguely between them. "You know..."

Lucifer arched a brow and grinned "Do elaborate Detective..."

"What I remember..." Chloe shook her head slowly against the leather cushion, talking over him, "is that we didn't... You didn't take advantage of how I was acting. I was in a bad place that night."

He arched a brow and murmured, "yes, I know all about bad places."

Chloe flashed him a warning look, not to make light of the situation. It had meant something, that even though she had rocked up uninvited, drunkenly throwing herself at him, that he had actually just tucked her into bed and let her sleep it off rather than using the situation to get the one thing he had seemingly been obsessed with at the time. Sleeping with her.

She rested one hand on the foot that was still in her lap. "You should sleep" she murmured with a yawn.

"Speak for yourself" he rumbled, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement. "If you feel the desire to use me in my sleep as some form of stress relief... you go right on ahead."

Chloe cracked open an eye, she was sure she had closed them for only a moment. The quiet of the penthouse had lulled her into a stupor. It had been such a long wild day and finally the need to rest was catching up with her.

"Though" Lucifer continued sleepily "I'd prefer to be awake of course."

"You know there's a perfectly good bed over there?" Chloe blinked, nodding over toward his bedroom.

Lucifer twisted his head on the armrest to glance across the penthouse, then looked back at her. "Would you come with me though?" it was hesitant question. A genuine request with no trace of teasing this time. If he were to lose the comforting touch of her hand on his foot, then there was no choice to be made.

"No." Chloe's response was gentle, but firm, there were some boundaries she would not cross, especially now.

"Then I'm quite fine here..." Lucifer's words were half slurred, but there was an undeniable honesty to them. As weary as he felt around her right now, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Chloe watched as his eyes closed, at how his head tilted to one side when he slept. Her gaze drifted down to the silk robe that lay half open across his chest, fascinated by the rise and fall of each slow breath. He was breathing, lungs were at work, there was a heart in there beating, at least she assumed there was.

It was tempting to reach forward and place a hand on that chest, to be sure of the heartbeat for herself. It would be so very easy to just trail a hand over that silk covered skin, so very fragile looking, dishevelled and somehow... human.

 _'Shoot me Detective.. go on.. shoot me!'_ Chloe blinked at the memory.

But he's wasn't human. The memory of that red raw face was a constant bucket of ice on her libido. She shied away from thinking on it too hard right now, she was too damn tired.

Whatever he was, he bled around her, something in her made him vulnerable, and yet he still wanted to remain in her company. It was ridiculous...

She watched him shift slightly in his sleep, his head turning toward the light cast by the distant wall behind the bar. His slack features giving no hint of what he really was, he just looked like an ordinary man.

 _Just a man..._

For a long while she watched him breathing, her fingers still coiled around his ankle, until the heavy swirl of questions in her mind slowly abated and she could close her eyes too.

.

.

.

Chloe jolted awake, her neck creaking with stiffness from the awkward angle of sleeping whilst sitting upright, her eyes flared open as she heard a strange noise. It took a long moment to orientate herself.

 _The penthouse, the middle of the night, the Devil..._

She rolled her neck and looked over to Lucifer who was still asleep, curled slightly in on himself. His breath hitched as his chest heaved, he was panting for air in a kind of panic, his expression distraught.

 _A bad dream?_

Lucifer threw an arm out, over his face, the crook of his arm obscuring his eyes. His limbs tensing as if bracing for impact.

"Hey..." Chloe murmured, stroking the ankle that still lay in her lap. "Hey... you okay?" She wasn't even sure if he could hear her.

"It's okay... you're alright... I'm here." She kept talking, trying to soothe him, uncertain whether to shake him awake. It must have helped for his breath evened out and his features eventually relaxed.

Chloe frowned, watching him closely, wondering what on earth the Devil would have nightmares about?

The thought kept her awake for a long time.

Hours passed by in the quiet penthouse as they both slept, sprawled out across the full length of the sofa.

Lucifer awoke first. He ran a hand over his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Blinking at the sight of the Detective, fast asleep and curled at the other end of the sofa, one hand resting on his bare shin.

In the clear light of dawn, the way the sun was catching her tumbling hair, she looked like a peaceful Pre-Raphaelite angel. He could not help but stare. He'd laid everything out and by some miracle she had decided to stay.

It was done, it was all out there.

There would be no more going backwards, not from this... Not any more.

No more...

 _At last._

The Devil lay back as the new dawn crept across the penthouse, allowing himself a small grin of hope.


	16. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

Chloe awoke to the tempting smell of fresh roasted coffee. Her mouth felt dry and her stomach complained loudly with a low rumble of hunger. The leather cushion pressed against her face felt too hot and sticky, not comfortable at all.

She missed her bed.

"If I had any supplies in I'd rustle you something up." Lucifer cheerfully called out, he was stood over by the bar, still draped in his dressing gown, tending to two tall coffee mugs.

Chloe twisted around to peer at him, holding a hand over her mouth as she yawned widely. The conversations from the previous day crowded for her attention but one vivid thought flew high above all the rest.

 _O-kay... so he's the Devil..._

She cast about for her coat as her heart gave a sideways lurch.

"Leaving so soon?" Lucifer paused mid-stir, arching a brow in her direction.

"I need to go..." Chloe muttered, in the cold light of day the revelation of his identity felt ridiculous. "I... uh... Trixie needs me... I need to go." she shrugged on her coat and cast about for her keys. what she needed was a little fresh air, a little normality. _Where were the damn keys?_ She threw her hands up irritably and muttered "life goes on... you know?"

She really _did_ have things that she needed to do.

"Ah of course, you wouldn't want to trust Douche with the spawn for too long, wise choice." Lucifer smiled, not bothered in the least by her sudden rush to leave. Last night she had stayed and this morning she was talking to him as if nothing had really changed. It was the best outcome he could ever have hoped for.

He shuffled out from behind the bar and handed her a cup. "For the road Detective?" He limped past her and perched on the arm of the sofa. He glanced down at his foot thoughtfully. His celestial healing was quite shy around the detective and he hadn't expected the pain to linger so annoyingly. What he needed was a little time alone to just heal properly and get back to his old self. "I'll catch up with you in a bit."

"What?" Chloe blinked.

Lucifer shrugged "Well, I'll see you at work."

Chloe just peered at him with blank confusion.

" _Work_ Detective" He leant back slightly and calmly snatched up her keys from between two cushions on the sofa. "You just said, life goes on? and so too does death I presume?"

He planted the keys into her open palm as she stared at him for a long silent beat.

"I expect it won't take long for the next crime to rear it's ugly head hm?" He sounded almost gleeful at the prospect. "I'll see you on the next case Detective, it's what we do."

Chloe felt dazed at the idea of work. But she had been right, life did go on. It had to. "Yeah, sure... of course... I really should go." She took a gulp of the coffee and it scalded her tongue, the scour of heat going some way to waking her up.

 _The Devil and the Detective?_ Is that what they were now?

She shook her head at the idea and blinked as she handed him back the cup, turning swiftly for the elevator.

 _O-kay... she could do this, couldn't she?_

After all, life would go on anyway, whether she was ready for it or not.

.

.

.

 _A/N: The end. I hope you enjoyed the story! I'm really pleased to have gotten to the point where I can call this complete. I always wanted to get to the point where Chloe knew everything and she had navigated her way through the worst of the shocks._

 _I've got a follow-on piece in mind, where we see the fallout from the revelations on a broader scale as Chloe and Lucifer have to deal with how the truth affects some of the other people that they know too. How their interactions might change and there is even the thin ghost of a crime plot. So stay tuned._

 _Thank you for sticking with me this far ;)_


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